Memoire
by I Am Sweden
Summary: Sequel, AU. Three years ago, everything was made right in their lives. But with the discovery of several old tapes, Ludwig and Feliciano worry the past may have a greater impact on them still. Now, with some new and old help, they must patch up the pieces before everything falls apart once more.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, I lied. I was too impatient to wait until autumn, so HERE WE GO!**

**With a grand symphony going and a drum roll playing in the background, I present to you **_**Alleluia's **_**sequel, **_**Memoire**_**! This takes place three years after **_**Alleluia**_**.**

**Since this is summer and it has mostly consisted of me being bored at home, I'm going to try and update this every week while also working on **_**Illusion **_**and **_**The Truth About War**_**.So, yeah. Busy. Well, I hope everyone enjoys this!**

**Brandon- Brandenburg**

**Monica- Monaco**

**Patric- Picardy**

**Memoire**

**Chapter 1-**

"_Is it on? Is it on?"_

"_Well, if you'd move your fat butt out of the way, Gil, maybe we could tell."_

_The seventeen-year-old Gilbert Beilschmit leaned away from the video camcorder, bringing a large house and several other teenagers, lit by the various flashlights being held by each, behind him into view. The albino grabbed the camcorder and swung it wide, panning across the scene. "Alright! Awesome! Your crusty old camcorder _does _work, Lizzy!"_

_Ignoring her demands to be handed her camcorder, Gilbert zoomed in on the blonde at the end of the line. "So! Here we have my _bruder, _Brandon! We kidnapped him since he's heading off for Germany tomorrow morning to go to icky, unawesome college. Buuuuuut, to make his trip AWESOME, we're throwing the best party ever and recording it, so he can watch it over and over and OVER AGAIN in Germany!"_

_The blonde boy scoffed, but couldn't hide his smile. He was thin and lithe like Gilbert, but much taller, with the same messy mop of hair they both claimed was awesome. Brandon gave a theatrical sigh. "You credit yourself too much, Mini-Awesome. What makes you think I want to watch you and your friends get drunk all night?"_

"_Pfft, we won't _all _get drunk. Antonio probably doesn't even know what drunk means."_

"Qué?_" the Spaniard in question asked._

_Gilbert zoomed in on his clueless face. "Give it up for Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, who somehow survived his first year in America without knowing English!"_

"_I know some English!" he argued in a heavy accent. "Just… not much."_

_A beautiful Italian girl put her chin on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him with a smile. "It's okay," Aria said. "We are learning."_

_The camcorder bobbed, and Gilbert's maniacally grinning face was back. "Exactly. And tonight, they're gonna learn a very important American tradition: HOW TO T.P. A HOUSE! Operation Awesome part one! Okay, Francis, you got the toilet paper, right? Sammy! You brought the eggs?"_

"_This is hardly legal, Gilbert!" Roderich Edelstein's voice cut their respective shouts of assent. The dark-haired boy sprang into view, glaring behind his large glasses. He jabbed a finger into Gilbert's chest. "You told me we were simply hosting Brandon a party. I did not come to deface someone's property with you!"_

_The camcorder lingered on him a moment before turning to a sighing Elizabeta, her frizzed hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. "Why did you let my unawesome cousin come, Lizzy? He's going to be such a party-pooper and ruin all our fun."_

"_It's not like I came to desecrate a house either, and-" Elizabeta was cut off when Gilbert swung the camcorder back to his motley group. Francis wiggled his eyebrows and held up two plastic bags stuffed with toilet paper. Samantha did the same, lifting her cartons of eggs._

_Gilbert handed the camcorder back to Elizabeta, who muttered some no doubt dirty words in Hungarian. He then pranced over to Antonio and threw an arm around his neck, slowly explaining how this was all going to play out. While Gilbert talked, Aria hesitantly helped Francis and Samantha unpack their supplies. Yao Wang, who thus far had stood glaring at the house behind him, walked over to the group and demanded he be able to throw the first egg._

"…_Elizabeta?"_

_The camcorder was turned to face Roderich's uneasy face. "Elizabeta, look at whose house this is."_

_With slow dread, a mailbox came next into view._

_In large letters read _KIRKLAND.

_Elizabeta openly cursed, this time in English. She violently faced the German perpetrator, screaming, "GILBERT BEILSCHMIT! WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU THINKING? YOU IDIOT!"_

_Gilbert turned his grinning face back to the camcorder and flipped it off. "That's for you, Artie, if you ever watch this! Maybe next time you'll remember not to tattle!"_

"_Uh, are we doing this because he saw you trying to steal Herakles's report?" Antonio curiously asked, slightly muffled in the headlock Gilbert still had him in._

_Aria indignantly raised her head, rounding on Gilbert. "You! It was YOU! My _fratellino _worked on that paper all night!"_

"_It's not my fault your brother is a freaking history book!" Gilbert cried in his defense. He finally released Antonio and threw up his hands. "If you had forgotten to do yours, you would have taken his paper too!"_

"_Gilbert, the upstairs light just came on!"_

_The kids went dead silent, each looking up in fear. Elizabeta angled the camcorder up to catch a sleepy Arthur peering through his curtains. His face suddenly became more alert as he mouthed something in confusion. As full realization hit him, Arthur slammed his window up and snarled, "WHAT ARE YOU SODS DOING?"_

"_NOW!" Gilbert yelled, shoving the box of eggs in Yao's face. He grabbed one and chucked it upwards, sending it sailing through the night air into Arthur's face. Gilbert crowed loudly, ruffling Yao's hair. "Direct hit, Wang! That was AWESOME! My turn! Francis, throw the first roll!"_

_Eggs and toilet paper rolls began flying everywhere. More lights turned on as Arthur flailed around, wiping egg off his face while simultaneously pushing his window back down and yelling for everyone else to wake up. Gilbert turned back to the camcorder, getting up close. "Operation Awesome part one: an awesome success!" he announced with a cackle. Grabbing Elizabeta's wrist, Gilbert ran off, yelling for everyone to follow him._

_By the time they had escaped across the street and took a sharp right to another, even larger and older house, sirens could be heard in the distance. The camcorder was lifted once more to face a panting group of teenagers soon to be in a lot of trouble. Of course, that wasn't according to Gilbert's Operation Awesome. Antonio worriedly hovered by Gilbert as he withdrew a key from his pocket._

"_Alright, everybody. Part two: avoid the cops by spending the midnight hour in a haunted house."_

"L-los fantasmas?_" Antonio stuttered. Elizabeta aimed the camcorder at him, catching his terrified face. The Spaniard frowned into it. "Mama, if I die tonight, know that I love you, _sí? _Ah… _y lo siento_ for eating all the tomatoes _ayer._ But they were _muy bueno!_ And I am very sorry for-"_

_Brandon jerked the camcorder to finally face him, his bright blue eyes vivid even in the night's darkness. "Since this is my video, I hereby declare there shall be no unawesome crying for any Mamas. I now return this production into Lizzy and Mini-Awesome's capable hands."_

_No doubt with a roll of her eyes, Elizabeta faced the youngest Beilschmit brother, beckoning Yao and Samantha inside. He smirked at her. "I already went and stocked the place with beer, cheetos, and popcorn. _Vati,_ if you ever get possession of this video, I am not your underage son Gilbert Beilschmit, but someone who looks just like him and has the same friends."_

_Brandon and Elizabeta were pushed in next. Once everyone was safely inside, Gilbert locked the door after him and peeked out the window to laugh at the police trying to talk to a screaming Arthur and his siblings, who were also fighting to keep their laughter in check._

"_G-Gilbert," Antonio started again, nervously wringing his hands, "I really can't get into trouble. What if the police find us here? _Mi madre _thinks I'm in bed."_

_Sadly, Gilbert shook his head. He called to Francis, "We haven't corrupted him enough."_

"_And you've been with us an entire year already, Antoine!" Francis gasped in mock horror. The blonde threw a comforting arm around his Spanish friend, who stuttered that his name was "Antonio", not "Antoine". "Don't worry, _mon ami! _We'll have you officially initiated into our crime ring tonight. Brandon can have the honor of swearing you in."_

"_I don't want to be a criminal!"_

_True to Gilbert's earlier accusation of him being a spoiler-sport, Roderich cleared his throat once again, gaining Antonio's attention. He helpfully peeled Francis's arm off his shoulders. "Don't listen to them, Antonio. They're terrible influences on you."_

"Qué? _What is an 'influence'?"_

_Everyone but Aria, also wondering as to what this new English word meant, shared a collective groan. Looking hurt, Antonio sighed and wandered over to the dining room where several bags of cheetos sat on the grand table. There was a jostling of the camcorder as it returned to Gilbert's possession. His grim face took the view once more. "Legend has it that a man was killed in this very room, in the very chair Antonio is now sitting in."_

_Antonio choked on his cheetos. "_QUÉ?_" Even though his freaked-out Spanish went against Brandon's earlier awesome decree, the blond German burst into laughter, mussing up Antonio's curly hair. With that, Antonio put a hand on his heart and went to stand in the corner of the room with Aria._

_The camcorder settled on Yao a moment, who was looking quite bored. "Oi, Wang! Why aren't you laughing, man? Way to be unawesome!"_

_Yao sighed. "I only came out tonight to throw a raw egg in Arthur's face. I could really care less about your silly party."_

"_Aww," Gilbert taunted, "does Yao want his mommy, too? Is he afraid he'll get caught?"_

"_As soon as the police leave Arthur's house, I'm going back home."_

_Gilbert's cackle was loud and obnoxious, cuing Yao to huffily walk towards the window and spy, muttering Chinese under his breath. "I knew it!"_

_After his giggles died down, Gilbert cleared his throat and began his story again. "So. Old dude named Steven died in the house. Stories from the awesomely creepy four-year-old kid who always comes to our bakery with his mom claim that this place is super scary. I respect this Tavian kid, and thus decided we would spend tonight here. Now then! I propose a toast to Brandon, most awesome big brother in the world!"_

_Francis steered the laughing blonde to his seat. Elizabeta and Samantha presented him with a bag of cheetos and some popcorn. Next, Yao and Roderich, both complaining loudly, carried in the cooler. "Alright, guys! Party and do whatever! We _do _have to make it home sometime tonight, so don't get too drunk, okay? Lizzy! Remember, you gotta drive Francis, Antonio, and Aria home. And Roddy? You're taking the rest of us back. You two will get twizzlers in exchange for beer."_

_Before Gilbert turned the camcorder off, he winked a scarlet eye and quietly said, "I'm gonna miss you, Big-Awesome. _Ich liebe dich_."_

Feliciano and Ludwig both sat on Ludwig's couch, gaping openly. When Antonio and Gilbert left to do… whatever, Feliciano had popped up, promising to spend the day with him so he wouldn't be lonely. Ludwig, however, had every intention to spend his Saturday of freedom picking up around his house. Not long after putting Feliciano to work, the Italian had tripped into Gilbert's closet (Ludwig _still _had no idea how he could trip out in the hall and somehow roll into his father's room and crash into his closet). In a fast attempt to clean everything up, the two had found a box of camcorder cassettes.

Overwhelmed with curiosity, Feliciano had rushed back downstairs, calling for Ludwig to turn it on.

Both boys were now sure their minds had imploded. As usual, Feliciano was the first to speak. "Woooooow!" he drawled in sheer amazement. "Everyone looked so young! Even _Papà _and _Mamma!_"

Ludwig cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "Yes, well, this had to be while they were still in high school, if _Vati _was underage and Antonio didn't know much English. I figure they were… seventeen or eighteen?"

Feliciano hopped up. "That's _amazing!_" the boy burst, waving his arms. "This is proof that the dinosaurs existed! Did you see how _old _everything looked?"

"Feli, it was the late eighties-"

"And this is 2012! That's been… OVER TWENTY YEARS! Ooh, Luddy, I have to go tell everyone about this! Come on, Luddy, you can come home with me! _Mamma _is fixing pasta tonight, and she'll be glad to have you over!"

Ludwig blinked at the rapid words spewing from Feliciano's mouth. Luckily, he'd had three years of practicing how to decipher his manic speech. However, that didn't mean he was going to attempt to keep up with him. With a polite smile, Ludwig declined, and slipped the cassette back in its case.

He ignored Feliciano's "Wow, and I haven't seen a cassette in forever, either!" and hefted the box up. Ludwig really shouldn't have gotten it out of Gilbert's closet in the first place. Gilbert had already shown him countless videos of himself as a kid, gushing over how cute and awesome he had been. But this box…. Ludwig had never seen it before. Now that he thought about it, he really hadn't seen much about when his father was seventeen. It was almost as if there was a gap in Gilbert's life he didn't want Ludwig to know about.

And this Brandon person….

Gilbert didn't have any siblings. So why on earth would he say this Brandon was his _bruder? _Although he certainly looked like every other Beilschmit in the family, Ludwig had never heard of a Brandon, nor had he seen any pictures of him. It was certainly puzzling. He made a mental note to ask Gilbert about it when he and Antonio returned from… wherever they had gone.

"Luuuuuuuddy!" Feliciano called from downstairs. In just a few seconds, he was upstairs, jumping up and down in the doorway. "Lovi called and said he's taking Lili back home since it's starting to rain and it ruined his date, so he's going to come pick me up. Are you _sure _you don't want to come over and eat delicious pasta with us? It's really good~!"

"As much as I appreciate the offer, your brother doesn't seem like he's in a very good mood. Having to drive me home with you two will certainly make him even more sour," Ludwig explained, pushing the box back to its original place. Instead of facing the massive pout he knew Feliciano had put on, Ludwig shook his head at the box. "Antonio and Aria have never said anything about Brandon, have they?"

When Feliciano didn't immediately answer, Ludwig looked back at him. The boy tapped his chin in serious thought. Seconds later, his moment was over. He perkily shook his head. "Not that I can remember! I can ask later, though, if you want me to!"

"_Danke_. That'd be nice."

An angry honk sounded from outside. Feliciano's face lit up. "That's Lovi! _Grazie _for having me over! It was a lot of fun. Tell Astro I hope he feels better, okay?"

With a wide wave, Feliciano skipped downstairs, shouting a goodbye to his dogs at the top of his lungs. Ludwig fought to keep the grin off his face, but it was always impossible when Feliciano had been the one to make it pop up. With a roll of his eyes, Ludwig made his way back downstairs. The silent walls were both a comfort and a nuisance- although Ludwig was finally able to relax a little without Feliciano and Gilbert, it was awfully lonely.

"You don't think something happened to Brandon, do you?" he quietly asked, sitting in the floor next to Astro. The German Shepherd let out a tired huff, rolling over on his side to have his belly scratched. "And I have the worst feeling _Vati _will do something crazy to grate my nerves and make me forget about the issue."

Astro remained silent.

"…They won't be back for another hour or so. It's not even dark yet."

The dog's eyes flickered to meet his.

With a groan, Ludwig ran his hand through his hair. "He is going to kill me for this…. Let's watch one more video. They've got dates on them, so we'll find one that happened after Brandon went to college. Maybe it will explain why he disappeared off the face of the earth."

Ludwig blamed Feli for making him succumb to curiosity like this.

((((()))))

"Monica, where are you hiding? We have to pick up Matthew at the airport! And where did you put my wallet?" Francis burst, ducking under the dining table to see if either his daughter or his wallet were hiding there. Finding it empty, he moaned in exasperation. "Monica Jeanne Bonnefoy! We honestly do not have time for this!"

Therese stuck her head in the doorway, anxiously biting her lip. "Found her yet?"

"She's not in here," Francis sighed, standing straight. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Honestly, why do two-year-olds have to be so hard to manage? And why does our two-year-old have this strange obsession with money?"

She shrugged hopelessly and frantically resumed her search.

The Frenchman looked through all the bottom cabinets in the kitchen, looked behind the couch, and even went outside to look under the car.

"Uh… Mr. Bonnefoy?"

Francis scrambled to stand, knocking his head on the side mirror. He quickly combed his hair back to its perfect position and swung his head around to come face to face with Patric Ardensil, their mailman, holding Monica's chubby hand. "Monica!" he sighed in relief. "Where on earth did you find her, Patric?"

The blonde boy nervously laughed. "She was trying to stuff a wallet in the mailbox."

"_Again?_" he asked, staring at the child incredulously. Monica merely smiled and hugged his neck. Francis picked her up, reaching behind him to take his wallet back. "_Merci beaucoup_, Patric, for finding her. You're a wonderful mailman."

Patric smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Bonnefoy. And, um, didn't you say Matthew was coming back today?"

Francis cried out in shock. "I forgot! We're late! THERESE, MICHELLE, I FOUND MONICA, LET'S GO!"

((((()))))

"…Mattie, I'm bored."

"I know, Alfred."

"I'm really, reeeeeeally bored."

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP?" Raymón finally burst, rounding on him with a fiery glare.

Alfred returned it full force, leaning over Matthew to snarl, "How about you shut up, Fatty? You're complaining just as much as me!"

Raymón shoved him out of his face. "Me? You're the annoying _burro_! You're the reason we couldn't get any sleep on the plane! Why the heck did you come with us, anyway?"

"'Cause I couldn't let you get Mattie get corrupted by your stupid Cuban ways!"

"THAT'S IT!"

"BRING IT ON!"

Completely ignoring Matthew sitting between them, Alfred and Raymón began their cat fight, arguing in a mash of English and Spanish while hands pulled at hair and ripped at glasses. Matthew forced himself between the two, shoving them apart from each other. "Geez!" he burst, scowling at his friends. "Can't you two just sit and wait for a minute without trying to kill each other?"

"But he star-" Alfred swallowed his whine when Matthew turned his gaze on him. He looked down at his shoes. "Sorry."

Matthew looked to Raymón. The Cuban also sighed, "Fine, I'm sorry too."

"Good," Matthew nodded, creaking back to rest against the back of the bench. He winced at the contact. Breaking up the fight had made his sunburn hurt again, and Matthew was back to being miserable and blood red. He didn't know how he'd managed to get such an awful burn. Matthew didn't leave their cabin without three layers of sunblock on, and even then took care to keep out of the hot Cuban sun as much as possible.

Of course, to make matters worse, Alfred and Raymón didn't get even a hint of a sunburn. They were nicely tanned and pain-free.

Matthew was beyond exhausted. For a month, he'd helped build a church while breaking up Alfred and Raymón's spats and dealing with the local children who found poking his sunburn to be hilarious. And after Alfred blabbed to the other workers about Matthew's amazing pancakes, he had also been charged with breakfast duty.

He couldn't wait to graduate and get to McMaster University in Ontario. _Two more weeks, two more weeks…._

"Hey, Francis is here!" Alfred suddenly burst, jumping up to wave.

"I'm so sorry, Monica ran off, and- _what happened to your face?_" Francis screeched, staring in horror.

Matthew scowled. "Bad sunburn, Papa. Thanks."

Swallowing the urge to cry, Matthew stood, thankful no one but Monica moved to give him a hug. He patted her head, wincing. Michelle gently peeled her little sister away, fixing the clips in her hair. "Well, did you have fun in Cuba? You did take pictures, right?"

"I did!" Alfred crowed. "The church looked awesome when we were done! They still have to put in the windows and put the stuff inside, but we got the walls up. I also took before and after pictures of Matthew."

"_Alfred_!" he yelled, punching his shoulder. Alfred merely laughed it off, completely unfazed. Suddenly, he stopped laughing, meeting Raymón's scowl. Matthew growled and pushed Alfred along. "Don't. _Even_. I'll tell you guys all about it when we get these two a good fifteen miles apart from each other."

"But Mattie! _He _started it!"

**Translations**

**Spanish-**

_**Qué?- What?**_

_**L-los fantasmas?- G-ghosts?**_

_**Y lo siento… ayer… muy bueno… - And I'm sorry… yesterday… very good…**_

_**Mi madre- my mother**_

_**Burro- donkey**_

**Italian-**

_**Fratellino- little brother**_

**German-**

_**Ich liebe dich.- I love you.**_

**French-**

_**Merci beaucoup- Thank you very much**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Ayumi Kudou- I hope it does turn out to be interesting. XD However… GerBel won't be happening. Sorry. They're just the most important characters here. They're not actually going to get together. I'm pretty sure Lovino would REALLY kill him then. But anyway, thanks for reviewing!**

**Lam- Thailand**

**Kieu- Vietnam**

**Bong Chung- North Korea**

**Chapter 2-**

_"Hurry, hurry! Francis, get into position! Brandon, you recording this?" Gilbert urgently whispered._

_After the initial blurriness cleared, Roderich came into view, sleeping on his piano keys. The room was dark, lit only by Gilbert's flashlight and the evening's final light. Francis quietly sat down beside him, careful not to touch any of the keys. Smirking, he leaned down to Roderich's ear. "Oh, Roderich," he crooned in his girliest Hungarian accent. "I love you so much, you sexy pianist."_

_Gilbert snorted and even Brandon let loose a chuckle._

_Roderich slightly stirred. Francis's smirk grew as he used his fingers to walk up his back. "Oh, Roderich..."_

_"Mmm," he finally responded, a smile unfurling on his face. The camcorder momentarily settled on Gilbert, doubled over, silently choking on the laughter he was holding back. Gilbert waved him back to Roderich. With a sigh, Roderich opened his eyes. "Elizabeta... AHH!"_

_With a scream he jumped away from Francis's face, banging his arm on the tenor keys. Francis and the Beilschmit brothers burst into laughter. Roderich huffily retrieved his fallen glasses, face blood red. "You... you...!"_

_"Us... Us...?" Gilbert mocked, grabbing onto the grand piano for support. He clapped Francis, gasping for breath, on the back. "That was awesome!"_

_Cutting off Roderich's next outburst, the band room slammed open. Brandon angled the camcorder to catch Elizabeta stomping inside, eyes narrowed into a glare. "Boys!" she yelled, stalking over to Gilbert, trapped in the corner of the room. She grabbed his shirt and pushed up against the wall. "How many times have I freaking _told you_ not to touch my stuff?" she shrilly demanded._

_Brandon shoved the camcorder into Francis's hands. "Hey, come on, Lizzy!" he began, slowly and cautiously walking towards her. When her glare landed on him, Brandon stuck up his hands. "Calm down, Lizzy. It's just Gilbert. Sometimes his mind goes blank when he passes your locker, because he's remembering all the love notes he stuffs in there."_

_"HEY! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HELPING!"_

_But he did help. With her face now as scarlet as Roderich's, Elizabeta dropped her hold of his shirt. She turned wild eyes to Gilbert. "That was _you?_" Elizabeta squeaked in an interestingly high pitch. Before Gilbert could vehemently deny anything, she slapped him, slapped Brandon, and marched over to Francis. He instantly handed her the camcorder and backed up, out of her way. Elizabeta grabbed Roderich's arm and dragged him off, pausing once to turn back to the cowed boys. "Do _not _touch my things ever again," she warned._

((((()))))

Red Flower was as peaceful as ever that Saturday afternoon. Happy chatter filled the dining area, and no sibling arguments could be heard. Yao, for once, did not look overworked and Kiku actually had a small smile on his face instead of the miserable look he usually donned while at the restaurant.

So when Tohko Evans walked in, she assumed Yong Soo had been disowned, Kiku's brain had been switched with someone else's, and Yao… well, she didn't know what to think of her brother.

"…Mom? You okay?"

Tohko blinked out of her shock and quickly nodded to her son, Lam. The boy nervously pushed his glasses up and cast a worried look to Kieu, quietly surveying the area. It had been _years _since the two had come to visit their uncle and cousins. After all, it was a long trip from California to Virginia. The only reason they had willingly come this time was thanks to Deshad Hiranandani, who had moved in beside them. Deshad was a wonderful person, that was for sure, but one could only take so much dancing and singing. Also, he came over every morning to teach them yoga. Kieu frankly could not get into half of the weird positions he could and Lam didn't even try, pretending to sleep in every morning.

Also, Kiku was graduating. Like the good family members they were, they were here to see him get a scholarship to some fancy university like Harvard or Yale. Since he was a freaking genius and Lam could barely get through calculus with a C.

Oh, well. Being an elephant veterinarian in Thailand, he was sure, did not need calculus. And if it did… he could work in the elephant stables, feeding them and washing them! His plan was _foolproof_.

"Where are the other three?" Kieu asked once Tohko left to ruin Yao's good mood. Her younger brother shrugged. Lam was always so helpful. Kieu frowned. "Well, let's go hide with Kiku. Xiao Mei promised to give me a make-over once we got here. She'll probably go after you next."

"But I thought Tao was the one obsessed with looking nice?" Lam asked.

Kiku didn't look up when they arrived at his lonely table, completely absorbed in the large, old book before him. Lam made a face to see it was history. "Do you ever stop studying?" he asked.

Exclaiming in surprise, Kiku jerked his head up. "O-oh! My apologizes, I didn't even notice…. Sorry. Um, actually, I'm trying to help a friend. He has a history exam coming up, and I'm trying to think of a good way to help him remember things." After a moment of thought, Kiku added, as if it perfectly explained it, "He's Italian."

Lam blinked. Italian? What did that have to do with anything? But, to be polite, Lam nodded. Kieu merely stared. His sister sort of lacked tact sometimes… _and _didn't know how to smile, _and _was deathly afraid of getting makeovers. Quite an odd girl, Kieu was.

Kiku nervously smiled and offered them a seat, closing his book and placing it on top of the pile of library books beside him. Seeing their gapes, he explained, "I'm helping _many _of my friends study for exams. Though I am most worried about Feliciano…."

"That's right," Kieu finally spoke up. "You're friends those two kids that popped up on the news a couple years ago and Ivan. Deshad still talks about Ivan and a man named Gilbert."

Seemingly more relaxed now that Kieu was offering conversation, Kiku nodded. "The two kids would be Feliciano and Lovino. Ivan works here. He's… well, he's attempting to make sushi. I made the mistake of letting him see one of the cookbooks Aunt Tohko gave me, and he's obsessed. Gilbert is… a very… _unique _individual. He is my friend Ludwig's father. He and Deshad put on an elaborate dance show at a wedding three years ago. It was… also very unique."

Lam was flabbergasted to see the slight smirk on Kieu's face. She herself did not notice. "Is unique the word you use in place of 'weird'?"

Kiku's face reddened. Lam chuckled.

"YOU'RE HERE YOU'RE HERE YOU'RE HERE!"

Kieu and Lam turned just in time to catch a hug from a very excited and very _tall _Yong Soo. While the two silently boggled- since _when _did Yong Soo decide to grow four inches taller than everyone else?- he pulled back to wave over a quiet girl standing at the entrance. With a rueful smile, she walked over and gave a polite bow. "Hello," she greeted kindly. "I'm Bong Chung. Um, you must be the cousins Yong Soo has told me about?"

Lam forced himself to look away from Yong Soo's staggering height. And he was _very _glad he did. Bong Chung was honestly the most beautiful girl Lam was sure he had ever seen. Her hair reached to just below her shoulders, pin straight and glossy. Her sparkling, calm eyes were even darker than her hair. Though it seemed highly unfitting with the lovely navy dress she wore, a bright pink pair of headphones sat around her neck, identical in style to the green pair Yong Soo wore.

Kieu nodded in his place, eyes still wide in disbelief. "I'm Kieu, and this is my brother Lam. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bong Chung. Um… and you're… his… g-girlfriend?"

Yong Soo beamed, Bong Chung nervously blushed and looked to her feet, and Kiku sighed. Kieu and Lam exchanged yet another stunned glance. They had certainly missed a _lot_. The last time they had seen Yong Soo, he had been an excited ball of hyperactivity who gave uncomfortable hugs and could talk for _days _about kimchi. How exactly had the same boy grown up to be handsome, _tall_, and able to score a girlfriend?

"She moved to America three years ago, but didn't know a lot of English, so I decided to help her, since I learned Korean all on my own!" Yong Soo happily explained in one breath, rocking on his feet. "I took her here, and fixed her some of my kimchi, and Dad really liked her and she and Ivan became good friends! So we hung out more, and her English got really good and stuff-"

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't proper grammar," Bong Chung interrupted, chuckling lightly.

Yong Soo tackled her in a hug, nearly knocking the poor girl over. "See! Now she knows English better than I do!"

Bong Chung smiled at him. "And in return, I corrected his horrible Korean grammar so he could speak to my mother and she wouldn't be appalled."

"Aw, but your mom _loves _me."

The expression on Bong Chung's face said otherwise. However, she quickly fell back into a reserved, sweet smile. Even Kieu's face had softened at seeing "opposites attract" in action.

However, panic quickly replaced any hint of a smile. "She's here," Kieu worriedly breathed, ducking behind Lam. "Xiao Mei and Tao are _here._"

Yong Soo turned in surprise. "Whoa, that was a quick shopping spree. Hey, want me to hide you in the back? Oh! And you can be the first to try some of Bong Chung's kimchi! It's delicious!"

Before she could even answer, Yong Soo grabbed her wrist and skipped straight through the kitchen, waving to a worried Tohko and Yao.

Lam groaned. "I'm never going to see my sister again, am I."

((((()))))

Lovino, if he could, would find and punch the man who created Facebook.

Aria, of course, had to be with the times and immediately start herself an account. That meant Feli would follow suit and would _not shut up _until Lovino had joined in the stupidity as well. What was the freaking point? Who on earth wanted to go online and read others' soap operas? He had enough soap opera in real life to deal with, thanks.

But it wasn't _completely _a bad thing, Lovino discovered that night.

Feliciano let out a loud gasp from the couch. Almost knocking Aria's expensive laptop off the coffee table, he shot up and tugged on Lovino's arm. "Lovi! You won't _believe _who's on Facebook!"

Good Lord help him now. "The Kool-Aid Man? For the last time, Feli, he's not _real._"

His amber eyes went wide as saucers. His jaw dropped. "I have to look him up. I bet he has his own page and everything! But no, that's not who I meant! C'mere!"

Completely against his will, Lovino was led to face his second most hated enemy (Ludwig, of course, was number one). He narrowed his eyes at the tiny picture in the corner. Two smiling blondes looked back up at him, practically slapping him in the face. Alice Johannes, hair grown out to her shoulders, stood beside a slightly taller and older young man, _who had his arm around her._

Lovino literally froze.

Feliciano excitedly bounced in his seat. "It says she goes to college at some funny named place in Brussels. That's the capital of Belgium, right? I can't read half of the other stuff, though, because it's all in Dutch. Do you think that's where she disappeared to?"

Disappeared was a very accurate word for it.

After that quick goodbye three years ago, where she'd given him up and promised to come back in time for Francis's wedding, she… _hadn't_ come back. Lovino and Alfred thought she'd just been delayed on her flight, or Lars had gotten them tragically lost in Amsterdam.

But she didn't come back the next day, the next week, the next _year. _No one could get service to the Netherlands, and no letter could be sent since no one knew exactly where in the Netherlands Lars and Alice were at. It was like she had literally fallen off the face of the earth and blinked out of existence.

Lovino suspected Lars had been arrested for having such stupid hair and Alice had been forced to live her estranged family. Perhaps Lars himself had randomly decided to live back in his home country, dragging Alice along with him.

No one had any idea- until now.

Lovino slid the computer over to him and opened a new tab. "I'm going to Google Translate this crap. Go call Alfred or Matthew or something. No, just Alfred. He's stupid enough to join this idiotic site. Matthew actually has a brain."

His brother cheerfully ignored the insult and did as he was told.

Even though Google Translate completely screwed up the Dutch, Lovino could decipher most of it on his own. The tags on her profile picture had Alice van Houten and Sebastiaan van Houten.

Lovino couldn't help but die a little inside.

Were they MARRIED?

However, her relationship status read single.

Had they DIVORCED?

When Feliciano came back, he was slightly worried to find his brother gawking at the computer, muttering helplessly under his breath. Usually when Lovino was surprised, he flew into a frenzied state where he cursed in several different languages for around an hour. One of the perks of knowing so many multicultural people, Feli supposed. But when he was reduced to the mess he was now?

Feliciano frowned and scooted the computer back to him. "Want me to message her?" he cautiously asked. "Um. Are you okay, _Fratello_?"

"…She changed her last name to van Houten. Why did she change her name to van Houten?" he mumbled in answer to his question. Feliciano nervously began typing, eyes flickering to his catatonic brother every couple sentences. After a moment, Lovino recovered enough to walk to the door. Alfred would come running over any second-

"DUDE, I CAME AS FAST AS I COULD," he shouted before Lovino had even opened the door all the way. Alfred flew past him to the living room, waving his hello to a stunned and sleepy Antonio. "You actually found her, Feli? No way! Why didn't she add _me?_ Did Lars glue her to the Netherlandian grass?"

Lovino slapped the back of his head. "Netherlandian?" he hissed. "Geez, you're a bigger idiot than I thought."

Alfred was honestly confused. "Then… Hollish?"

Feliciano's cry of triumph interrupted Lovino's shout. "Alright! We should hear from her soon! I told her we really miss her, and that Vash hasn't killed you yet, _Fratello!_ Also, I promised her you'd send her pictures of Cuba, Alfred."

He helpfully pulled out his phone, uploading all the pictures. He then proceeded to send Alice a friend request. "She's totally missing us," Alfred sadly shook his head, completely ignoring the translations before him saying otherwise. According to Google Translate, Alice was having the time of her life in Brussels, hanging out with Sebastiaan, having a movie night with her new Belgian friends, going shopping with her mother-

"Wait a minute! Alice has a _mom?_" all three burst at once. Eyes glued to the screen, Feli translated the rest of the post.

_Fun at the mall. :)_ _Bought Bast's dog a new collar and completely ignoring that stupid project due tomorrow. Thanks, Mom!_

Lovino began muttering again.

Alfred rubbed his chin in thought. "Hmm…. Maybe she got in a plane accident, landed on a magic island, survived the creepy natives but tragically lost her memory, made her way back to Belgium where she was adopted by this mysterious 'Mom' person! And… Sebastiaan is her new big brother, because Lars is still stuck on the island!"

"Isn't that the plot of LOST?" Aria asked, leaning over the back of the couch. She handed out plates of leftover spaghetti and comfortingly ruffled Lovino's hair. After receiving a glare from Lovino, she sighed and went to sit beside Feli.

After shoveling down the scrumptious leftovers, Alfred gasped. "Hey, that _is _the plot of LOST! I didn't know they based that off of Alice!"

"Did you eat Arthur's cooking before coming over?" Lovino asked, utterly disgusted at his stupidity. "Or Samantha's?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Burnt hotdogs are just as good as regular hotdogs. Smother them in ketchup, mayo, and barbecue and you can't even taste it."

Even Feli made a face at that. Shaking his head to erase the frightening mental image away, he anxiously turned back to the computer. He frowned. "Why hasn't she replied yet?"

"Belgium is six hours later than us," Alfred said, at last showing his intelligence. After checking his watch, he reported, "That means it's one in the morning over there. But since she's at college, she's probably partying right now."

At their looks, Alfred defensively shrugged. "College changes people, okay? Have none of you watched a college flick? It's party central! Man, I can't wait to get to Norwich. Military universities have the BEST toga parties!"

Lovino palmed himself.

((((()))))

Six hours away in Belgium, Alice lay slumped forward on her desk, head resting on her arms by her open laptop beeping to tell her she had a message. However, she merely snored, completely oblivious that three guys in America were in shock over her existence.

Sebastiaan van Houten cocked his head at the name blinking in the corner- who in the world was Feliciano Vargas?- and draped a blanket over her. He didn't even try to translate it and silently turned off her computer for her. If she was on Facebook goofing off, then hopefully she had finished that report she'd been working on.

Trying to hold in his own yawn, Sebastiaan downed the rest of his coffee and resolved to finish his own college work. He wasn't going to slack off just because his dad had sent him to a college out of the country, and especially if he had met his _real _mother in Belgium, completely on accident.

With a sigh, he kissed Alice's forehead and quietly flicked the light off.

"Sweet dreams."

((((()))))

"I'VE GOT IT!" Kiku elatedly burst, right as Yao was locking up the restaurant. Tohko, Kieu, and Lam had left hours ago to scour the streets for any other familiar faces before heading to their hotel. Everyone _else _turned to catch his bright red face. "I-I mean… I have just come up with a good way to help Feliciano study."

"I bet his attention span won't be able to grasp it," Tao muttered. However, Kiku, still locked away into quiet excitement over his revelation, didn't pay attention to him. Xiao Mei fought to hold in her giggle.

Ivan absolutely beamed. After making his first onigiri without causing the kitchen to explode, he had been in high spirit the entire day. His mood had further improved once Bong Chung offered to try it. Since she didn't fall to the floor gagging, Ivan declared his creation a success. Clasping his hands together, Ivan eagerly asked, "Did you decide to tell him to just write 'Russia dominates all' on each question?"

Everyone now turned their apprehensive looks to him. Ivan was unfazed. Kiku politely shook his head. "As good as idea as that seems, I must apologize, Ivan. I thought I could instead come up with something he could relate to more easily. Most of the people he knows are multicultural, correct? I'm going to compare each of us to the countries he studies. For example, you, Ivan, could represent Russia, and I could represent Japan. Feliciano could imagine you and I getting into an argument, and would think of the Russo-Japanese War!"

Yao curiously asked, "Then, my arguments with Arthur would represent the Opium Wars, if I was China and he were England?"

Kiku nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Exactly! Ludwig, Feliciano, and I could represent the Axis powers in World War II. You, Arthur, Alfred, Francis, and Ivan could be the Allies in that situation."

"Ooh! I have to be Korea!" Yong Soo pleaded. "Can I pleeeeeease be Korea?"

"Of course. I have assigned a country or famous area to each of us. Tao, you would be Hong Kong since you spent last year trying to teach Mr. Kirkland how to cook."

Tao couldn't help but shudder at that. He was _still _trying to erase those terrible, horrifying four months from his memory.

Kiku continued, turning to Xiao Mei, sympathetically patting her brother's shoulder. "You could be Taiwan, and Yong Soo is, for obvious reasons, South Korea. I thought Bong Chung could possibly be North Korea?"

Yong Soo rolled his eyes. "As if we'd ever get into a stupid war with each other." However, he paused, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. "But… she does spend a lot of time with Ivan and Dad, who would be the Soviet Union and China. They were both on North Korea's side in the Korean War…."

Almost worriedly, Yong Soo said, "And that huge argument Alfred and Arthur got into three years ago- could that represent the American Revolution? And Francis and Arthur's famous arguments…."

Yao went pale as he also realized the stunning similarities between history and his own past. "That's a little freaky," he had to agree.

"Feliciano's grandfather was to be Rome," Kiku quietly said. "His passing away was like the fall of Rome. And when Feli and Lovino reunited-"

"-It was like the unification of Italy," Xiao Mei finished with wide eyes.

All were reduced to a shocked silence. It was so strange, how well everything connected. It was as if "history repeats itself" had an entirely new meaning. Yong Soo nervously frowned to himself. There was certainly no way he and Bong Chung would start a metaphorical Korean War. That would be completely impossible. They loved each other. And… and since a lot of history didn't correlate into their lives, like the World Wars, this wouldn't either.

Right?

At long last, the silence was broken. Ivan let out a sigh. "But I _still _think you should tell him to write 'Russia dominates all'."


	3. Chapter 3

**Ayumi Kudou- That's my thing, too! I'm really not a romantic person. Thus why every lovey-dovey scene I write is… awkward. But anyway. I have a rant against yaoi, if you'd like to read it. I'm all for the het pairings too, don't worry.**

**Oh, summer. I love you. However, this is going to be a busy week, so the next chapter might not be up as quickly as these have been. Sorry about that.**

**Chapter 3-**

_A thousand colorful streamers popped out in front of the camcorder, momentarily blocking the rest of the scene from view. When the streamers succumbed to gravity, a grumpy Arthur came into view, flanked on both sides by a grinning Francis and Brandon. Gilbert pranced back into position, giving the camcorder-holder a thumbs up. "And, all together now…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIMEY! Er, I mean, ARTHUR!"_

"_I am going to kill you," Arthur calmly promised him, merely crossing his arms. "This is why Samantha kidnapped me? A stupid birthday party?"_

_Gilbert irritably flicked his forehead. "Are all British people this annoying? Seriously. If Samantha wasn't awesome, I'd have to wonder about her, too."_

_Samantha's indignant cry was heard in the background._

_Brandon rolled his eyes. The camcorder was swung backwards to catch Elizabeta and Roderich carrying in a rather large box. "If that's something explosive, I swear-"_

"_Relax, _mon cher_," Francis's voice interrupted him. "I baked you a cake filled with love_ _out of the goodness of my heart."_

"_It's probably full of crack, knowing you blundering wankers."_

"_Again with the hurtful words!" Brandon exclaimed as the camcorder finally turned back to them. He shook his head shamefully. "And to say such a thing of one of your band members…."_

_Arthur's face turned an interesting red shade. Francis slightly panicked, not sure to take it as embarrassment or anger. As a precaution, the Frenchman inched back. He was well to do so. Arthur jumped up in a rage. "How can you bloody say that when you sent me _alone _to a concert? I was the only one to show up! And why? Because you _both _were out _lolly-gagging_ with Elizabeta and Roderich, conveniently _forgetting _about the date we had planned for _months!_"_

_Gilbert made a face of disgust. "First of all, don't call it a date, okay? And second, we _told _you it was a stupid, unawesome idea. No one even showed up, right?"_

"_EVERYONE BLOODY SHOWED UP!"_

_The camcorder turned to face Elizabeta. "_Amiga_, do all American birthday parties begin with a argument?"_

"An _argument," Elizabeta quietly corrected Antonio, taping the whole spectacle. She took the camcorder from his possession and broke up the boys' fight. "Hey, Samantha finished cutting the cake, so shut up and eat it before I decide to take it home myself."_

_Arthur muttered something under his breath, but complied to her orders. Snickering behind his back, Gilbert and Brandon followed. Francis remained. The blonde chuckled into the camcorder. "I told you this would be a wonderful idea, Elizabeta. One day, when we're old and still sexy because we're _always _going to be sexy, we're going to sit down and watch these silly little videos. Our kids can watch them! I can just see little Francis Jr. running around, and my beautiful French wife will be there…."_

"_That's a wonderful plan," Elizabeta said blandly. "It'll be lovely, unless we kill each other first."_

"_Oh, whatever. But have I ever told you how I'm going to meet my future French wife?"_

_She sighed, keeping the camcorder trained on everyone fighting over who got which piece of cake. "How, Francis?"_

_He dreamily sighed. "Well. It will be lightly drizzling. The lights in Paris will be dimmed as the twilight begins to fall over the city. Across the street, I will see a beautiful girl running for cover from the rain. Later, under the Eiffel Tower, we meet again, kiss passionately, and voila! Mrs. Bonnefoy."_

_Elizabeta warily turned the camcorder back to him, momentarily leaving the mongrels to fight amongst themselves. "Uh, that's… delightful, Francis."_

_He nodded and joined the fight, calling for a corner piece covered in icing._

"'_Tonio and Francis! I saved you guys a piece with a lot of icing," Gilbert called out, holding the plates high. "Don't let Roderich get his grubby hands on my plate, Big Awesome."_

_Brandon solemnly nodded. "Wouldn't dream of it, Mini-Awesome."_

_Once everyone had been served, and Happy Birthday was sung at least seven times (three times in Spanish, courtesy of Antonio), Samantha pulled out the first present. Muttering under his breath, Arthur reverently unfolded the Union Jack flag some idiot had wrapped the box with. Inside the aforementioned box was the largest pair of headphones he had ever laid eyes on._

"_That's from me," Brandon smugly announced. "Does that count as an apology for ditching you?"_

"_For now, I suppose," Arthur absently nodded, turning the headphones over in his hands. Awe was written all over his face. Seeing this, Samantha jerked them away with a maniacal laugh and placed the next box in his hands._

_Arthur ripped the paper away, glad no one had dared desecrate his flag this time. "Cookies?"_

_Francis batted his eyelashes. "Baked with the love left over from the cake."_

"_You have no idea just how much I hate you, Frog," Arthur swore, eagerly sending the foul (yet delicious looking) things to Samantha._

_Every other present went in a similar fashion. Arthur would marvel, but keep that soured expression on his face. It was amusing, to say the least. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make himself truly hate them the way he proclaimed to._

_After giving a stubborn thank you to everyone, Gilbert dragged out the tape player. "Okay, to kick off the _real _awesome party, shall we begin with Poison, ACDC, ABBA, or Meatloaf?"_

"_You listen to girly ABBA?" Samantha crowed. Gilbert shot her a glare, and the argument began._

_With a sigh, Elizabeta turned the camcorder off._

((((()))))

Before Feliks had come back to America, unfortunately for good this time, Toris had spent his days in peaceful silence. He, Eduard, and Raivis would play cards or watch TV together, eat dinner, do dreaded homework, and go to sleep. Life was stress free and happy, despite being slightly mediocre. But that didn't matter to Toris. Mediocre was fine and dandy with them.

Feliks, however, was _not _fine and dandy with mediocre.

The first year with Feliks was spent mostly cleaning up after his messes and dealing with the disastrous aftermaths of his "fun ideas". Eduard had found his first gray hair that year. Raivis, poor child, had gotten his mind internally ripped apart when Feliks decided to wear women's clothing over to their house. Eduard had nearly yanked all his hair out, and Toris simply wanted to bang his head against a wall for a few hours.

The second year was better as they all began to grow used to Feliks's strange and eccentric ways. Eduard learned it was better to let Feliks have his way with the interior decorating, because his mother actually liked the changes made. In just a short while, they were sure they had the most stylish house on the block. Tino and Berwald had also settled in, so they had someone to share the madness with. Tino's wonderful Christmas presents were a bonus.

And now, at the present, it was hard for them to imagine one of their old days spent in silence and routine. If Feliks didn't show up at noon on the dot, something was terribly wrong. Toris actually freaked out the first time Feliks drove in late, having slept in because he stayed up to watch a horror movie marathon with Tavian. Apparently it had screwed up his mental sanity more than it already was.

Toris was very appreciative of Tavian from that day forward.

However, after all these years, there was still one thing Toris was without. There was still one teensy, tiny detail that bothered him.

And finally, with his confidence shooting out the roof due to the graduation soon approaching, Toris mustered up his courage and decided to face Feliks.

"U-um," he timidly began, mentally smacking himself repeatedly. "Pol?"

The blonde didn't take his eyes of his mirror, but nodded towards him. "Yeah, Liet?"

"You know how… everyone says you did something terrible at Aria's wedding?"

He nodded again, combing his fingers through his hair to make sure it was still looking as good as it had three seconds ago. Toris rubbed his temples and asked, "What… exactly… did you do?"

Feliks blinked, finally breaking the stare-down between him and his reflection. "You don't know?" he asked. A Cheshire grin spread out on his face. Toris had a feeling asking him was going to end up on his list of Biggest Regrets. Feliks spun around in his swivel chair (he had bought himself one for Christmas so he could have fun spinning around in it) and faced Toris with his most mischievous look.

Toris gulped.

"Well, since Gilbert had told me to be creative, I, like, couldn't let him and the others down! So, I made Tavian drive to the nearest Walmart and pick up two cans of bright pink paint and several waterguns."

He was beginning to get that urge to bash his head against a brick wall again.

Feliks's eyes lit up. "When he brought the supplies, I poured paint and some glitter I had on hand into the water guns and passed them around. Then we took aim and, like, FIRED! Neon pink was _everywhere_, Liet! Like, it was one of the most beautiful things ever. Hey! We should totally do that to your room this summer! Why do like all the boring colors, anyway? You're so, like, depressing and stuff. I need to find you a girlfriend," Feliks decided, tapping his chin.

Ignoring Toris's stuttered complaints and admonitions, Feliks hopped out of his beloved swivel chair and began pacing through his living room. "Hmm. Pretty girls… let's see. You know Veronica in Calculus, right?

Know Veronica? KNOW VERONICA? Veronica was a girl who changed hair color faster than most people changed pants. It wasn't normal colors, either. Yesterday, for example, had been bright aqua blue. The day before that had been lemon yellow. It had _glowed in the dark._

Toris grabbed Feliks's shoulders, stopping his marching. Literally, his _marching_. He had gotten bored of walking and began _marching._ "No!" he frantically yelled. "You are _not _setting me up on a date with Veronica or any of the other weirdoes at school! Or out of school! Yes, that includes people you know back in Poland!"

Feliks pouted. "Aw, you're no _fun_, Liet. Everyone in this freaking town is a weirdo! And how are you ever going to find love if you don't get out and look for it?"

"How about you?" Toris asked, striking brilliance.

"As if I have time for dating in my busy schedule."

"But you're always here, bothering us."

"Bothering? No, honey, that's too harsh a word. I'm here to… _liven things up_. Like, remember when I took Raivis school shopping?"

Toris was already headed to the wall, dead set on smacking his head against it a dozen times or so. Feliks gaped, following him with waved arms. "But Liet! He looked so cute! I found him a little sailor outfit and a cape-"

He couldn't stand it anymore. "YOU TOOK HIM TO A HALLOWEEN COSTUME OUTLET."

Feliks blinked. Then, he nodded and drawled, "Oooooooh, I bet that's why they had everything on sale! No one would ever think of coming to a costume store to find such adorable clothes! That reminds me. If we're going to find you Miss Perfect, we have got to change your hideous wardrobe, Liet. You look like you went to Britain and asked them puke Doctor Who all over you. Like, you got the TARDIS in your bedroom?"

Toris reached up a hand to rub his growing migraine away, but Feliks grabbed it first, pulling him out the door. "Like, bye, Mr. and Mrs. Toris's parents! When I'm finished with your son, he'll totes be a supermodel! Liet, remind me to call Tao Wang. I need to see if he'll recreate that beauty he calls his hair on your head."

"_What?_"

"The mop on your head. Looks like a dead Yorkie? Duh. Keep up, Liet!" Feliks groaned, practically throwing him in his car. Alright. So his rusty old piece of junk didn't deserve to have been given a title as prestigious as "car". However, it was the best he could do since Tavian had legally filed him a restraining order on his Mustang. If Feliks got within a ten foot radius of it, Tavian had permission to brutally stab him with a wooden spoon and call him Edward Cullen.

Since Feliks felt like puking blood every time Tavian mentioned _anything _Twilight after that rant he'd gone off on, he would rather keep his distance Tavian's Mustang.

Toris stared as Feliks paused to violently shudder. Then, he was completely back to normal.

It was on days like these that he kind of missed being stalked by Ivan Braginski.

((((()))))

They had been driving around aimlessly for about an hour before Toris finally sighed, "You forgot why we left the house, didn't you."

"Pfft, did not. I just got a better idea. Tavian told me there was a haunted house somewhere in town, and I wanna find it. So, we're driving to Arthur Kirkland's house to, like, ask him for directions," Feliks explained.

Great. Toris loved it when he randomly changed plans without bothering to mention it. "Wouldn't it be easier to call Alfred and have him ask instead of us driving around having no idea where they live?"

"Of course I know where they live," Feliks drawled, using his "duh, Liet" voice again. "I asked Samantha the other day, because I was curious. She breaks into his house all the time to kidnap Alfred. She also likes to walk her dogs in his yard, because she knows Arthur hates that."

Somehow, that completely explained why Alfred was such a strange young man.

Rolling his eyes, Toris cranked down the window and settled in for the long ride. It would probably be another three hours before they reached Arthur's house. With their luck, he would conveniently be gone when they arrived.

((((()))))

Toris almost didn't notice they had been circling the mall parking lot. "I look hot with my hair blowing out the window?" Toris blandly guessed.

"Like you're on _fire_. I've already seen a couple girls staring at you, interested, but they're not cute enough for you. I'm thinking a pretty red head would be nice."

"Pol. Haunted house. Sometime tonight, please?"

"Fine, Mr. Loser Pants. We'll go to the haunted house. You know, we'd have already been there if you had just called Alfred like I _told _you to. Geez, Liet."

"…I'll get right on it, Pol."

((((()))))

Two hours later, they finally arrived at the address they'd gotten from Alfred. Surprisingly enough, the so-called haunted house was just down the street from Toris's house.

Of course.

The exterior of the house was impressive, shooting up three stories into the sky. The dark wood was cracked and faded, few splotches of its original white color still intact. No glass remained in the windows, but the ornate designs above each window and door were still visible, beautiful even after so many long years.

Feliks, of course, was struck into an awed silence- his equivalent of complete and total adoration. It was going to take serious will-power to drag Feliks out of this place later. Toris checked his watch. "It's nine o'clock. How long are we planning on staying here? I've got an exam tomorrow-"

"Well, it's obviously not an important exam if you're not studying for it," Feliks figured, pushing the door open.

Their hands instantly flew to their noses. "Ugh, gross!" Feliks shrieked. "It smells like twenty-year-old beer and cheetos in here!"

"And popcorn?" Toris asked, stunned to see the trash littering the area. Still holding his nose to fight off the horrible smell, he curiously picked up the popcorn bag, greatly faded in color. "Hey, Pol? I think we crashed someone's party."

"Totally," he agreed, moving into the kitchen. "Hey, there are, like, antique twizzler wrappers in here!"

Toris shook his head in awe. Who had come to this abandoned, decrepit place and partied? For as long as anyone could remember, the house had been empty. He vaguely remembered his parents telling him it was, several years ago.

A pang struck inside his chest. In his mind, two tall figures with hair the same color as his turned around, faces blank. His mother had always curled her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders in loose ringlets. She had been beautiful, Toris was sure. He could perfectly see his parents' wide, pearly smiles, but nothing else. He could still remember their voices telling him goodbye.

_We'll just be gone for a little while. Be good for Mrs. Von Brock, alright, Toris? _Mes tave myliu.

Toris felt himself slide down to the floor, unaware he had backed up to the wall. A little while. Because, of course, it was just a simple helicopter flight with one of their old friends. The propellers wouldn't get stuck. They wouldn't drop out of the sky and crash into the mountain. It wouldn't burst into flames in the middle of the night, when Toris was fast asleep, unaware his parents were-

"Liet?" Feliks softly called.

Toris blinked the heavy feeling away. Before Feliks could ask if he was okay, he jumped up to his feet. "It's starting to get dark, and I don't think the upper floors are going to be sturdy enough for us. Let's finish looking around here and leave."

Rolling his eyes, Feliks skipped off, dragging Toris to the kitchen. He was honestly in love with the antique furniture and appliances. They spent a good twenty minutes in the darkening kitchen, marveling over the pale blue wall tile under the light of Feliks's cell phone. After a while, Feliks finally sighed, sitting on the counter. He kicked his legs and offered Toris a seat beside him. "This is a totes crappy haunted house," Feliks eloquently observed. "But don't you think it'd, like, make a good new hangout?"

"What do you mean?" Toris asked, absently peeking into the long-empty cabinets.

Feliks shrugged. "Tavian's always going off about how we come in and bother him at work. I thought we could, like, start meeting up here. Just think of how we could freak out Alfred and Feliciano! It'd be awesome!"

"Well, whoever came here before us must have had the same idea. So, yeah. That'd be nice," Toris decided with a smile.

Immediately, Feliks pulled out his phone. "Okay, I'll start on Alfred and Matthew. You can call Ludwig and Natalya. Don't let her tell Ivan. The _last _thing we need is that freak bludgeoning us to death with a pipe or something."

((((()))))

"_You listen to girly ABBA?_"

Ludwig snapped awake at the outburst. Seeing the video still playing, he worriedly looked around for any sight of Gilbert. Still nowhere to be found. Tonight he was out with Francis. Ludwig sighed and rewound it to the beginning. The last part he remembered watching was Francis's plans for finding Mrs. Bonnefoy. It was crazy, seeing how carefree everyone was. No one was worried about growing up and divorcing, watching their loved ones die, having to save their sons from a monster. It was astounding, to see how the times had changed them all.

Before he could start it again, his phone rang, almost making him flinch. "Hello? Toris?" he answered, pressing play. The volume was already turned down low, in case Gilbert came home early for some reason.

"Hi. Um, Feliks found a haunted house- okay, well, it's not really haunted. It's just old and abandoned. But anyway, he was wondering if we could start meeting here instead of the coffee shop. I can give you directions tomorrow in lunch."

"And bring some paint!" Feliks butted in. "Preferably something happy-colored. Also, find a gas mask. Some idiots came here and decided to leave their beer and cheetos out, and it smells _rancid._"

Ludwig froze. "What? Beer and cheetos? Popcorn?"

"Have you been here?" Toris asked in confusion. Ludwig was the last person he had expected to see breaking into abandoned buildings.

The blonde shook his head, momentarily forgetting Toris couldn't see him. "No, but I know who was there. The house doesn't have power, does it?"

"It's not been used in, like, eighty years," Feliks deadpanned. "I think Scarlett O'Hara was the last person to use it."

"_Gone With the Wind _was in Georgia."

"Georgia, Virginia, close enough. Just bring the paint, okay? I'll get the extension cords later. We can plug them up at Tino and Berwald's place. They're about two or three houses down from here anyway. Ooh! Idea! Like, think we can get cable?"

"No, Pol…."

"Killjoy."

"I'll be over in a moment. I believe I know where it is." Ludwig hung up before he could be dragged into Feliks's one-sided argument on cable television. Besides, he had more important matters to deal with at the moment. If they had found the house from the first video, perhaps he could find a clue about Brandon there. It was highly unlikely, but, if Brandon was anything like Gilbert, he wouldn't have left without leaving some mark that he had been there. Ludwig only hoped leaving the place trashy wasn't that mark.

He quickly put the tape and box back in Gilbert's closet, setting everything back exactly the way they had been. While he wrote a note, some bogus story about having to go to Wal-Mart to pick up some dog food, he called Feliciano.

The boy answered with a yawn. That was good. Feli was usually the last person up. If he had been asleep, everyone else was also asleep. "I know where the house from the first video is," he explained after an apology for waking him. "Would you like me to pick you up?"

"Lovi will kill you if he wakes up," Feli groggily said. "But he's dead-asleep, so you should be okay. Um, did you know Alice is going to college in Brussels, and she has a mom, and she's hanging around some guy named Sebastiaan van Houten?"

Ludwig paused a moment. "What?"

Another yawn. "I'll tell you when you get here." Ludwig frowned at that. Feliciano must have been _very _sleepy if he didn't want to talk. "Mmm. I'll be standing outside. Want some coffee?"

"Antonio and Aria let _you _drink coffee?"

"Nope. But I think I need some if we're going to scope out a haunted house. WAIT A MINUTE, IT'S A HAUNTED HOUSE! I CAN'T GO TO A HAUNTED HOUSE! WHAT IF A GHOST EATS ME?"

Ludwig jerked the phone away from his ear. Gingerly, he pulled it back. "Quiet down!" the blonde hissed. He came to a stop at his van, known as "The Luddy-Mobile" to Gilbert. Ludwig gave the pitiful thing a scan, checking to see if anything had randomly fallen off since its last use. Finding everything was clear, he arrived at the hard part: seeing if it would actually start.

Feliciano now spoke in a whisper, though still freaking out over the "haunted" part. After a good ten minutes of explaining that it was _not _haunted, the van finally spluttered to life.

Ludwig paused a moment to sigh in relief. "Okay. Good. My stupid van decided to work. I'll be by in a minute."

((((()))))

Honestly, Ludwig couldn't say he was surprised to see Lovino standing beside a guilty Feliciano on their porch. "In the back," Lovi ordered his brother in a clipped voice. He himself, who looked absolutely stunning in a large tee shirt and pajama pants, got in the passenger seat. With a glare Ludwig was sure could actually cause him harm, Lovino growled, "Drive. And if you take us to an abandoned building or something, I'm ripping your head off."

"But Feliks and Toris are there too!" Feliciano pleaded, sounding like they had already had this argument several times. Judging by how quickly Lovino employed his arsenal of curses, Ludwig figured it _had _been quite a few times. Feliciano floundered for a moment, trying to think of some way to keep Lovino from cursing loud enough to wake up Aria and Antonio. Suddenly, he spewed, "What if we kidnap Lili and bring her?"

Lovino cut himself off. Slowly, he turned to Ludwig, gaping. "In front of the school. Vash is watching the eleven o'clock news, Zira is probably at work."

Ludwig groaned, rubbing his forehead. Vash was going to kill them. Literally. He was going to pull out his shotgun or pistol and shoot them repeatedly in the head for this. Then Gilbert was going to drag him home and…. Ludwig blinked in surprise. Actually, he really had no idea what Gilbert would do to him. He would probably be _proud _his goody-two-shoes son would dare kidnap the police chief's daughter.

"I swear I will tell Gilbert about those stupid videos," Lovino snarled at his hesitancy.

"You _told him?_" Ludwig burst, turning on Feliciano.

The Italian was on the verge of tears. He smacked his forehead against the headrest. "I had to!" he whined. "I couldn't think of a good way to ask _Papà_ about Brandon, so I went to Lovi for advice-"

"The last time you asked your brother for advice, he told you to walk around town with a flower pot on your head," he deadpanned.

Lovino shrugged at the dirty looks he received. "I was talking to Lili. He bothered me."

Another groan escaped Ludwig's lips. "If- no, _when _we get caught, I'm ditching you two. Sorry."

Feliciano really was about to cry now. Lovino merely rolled his eyes. With no complaint voiced regarding his intentions, Ludwig started the van, thanking God that it turned on again. For the first few minutes, all was silent. Lovino, still suspicious Ludwig was going to tie up Feliciano and throw him in a lake to drown, spent the journey glaring holes into his head. Feliciano sniffled. Then, he quietly said, "I think I have an idea."

_Good Lord._

"What is it?" Ludwig asked uneasily.

Feliciano leaned up between the two front seats, an evil smile- yes, Ludwig had to check twice- unfurling on his face. "Gilbert and the others ran to the house after they egged Arthur, right? What if we do the same with the van? We can head straight to the house that way."

He blinked in surprise. That was… actually somewhat of a decent idea. "We use the van as a get-away car?" Lovino asked, interest piqued. He furrowed his eyebrows. "But how do we get Lili? Her bedroom is on the second floor."

"I have a feeling we'll wake up in jail tomorrow," Ludwig couldn't help but voice.

The brothers completely ignored him. Feliciano tapped on his chin, entering one of his solemn deep-thought modes. "Maybe if we had a ladder…."

"Don't have time to find one. We only have ten minutes until the news goes off," Lovino noted. He looked Ludwig over. "Think you can hold me on your shoulders, Macho Potato?"

"Did you _seriously _just call me that?"

"Shut up. Can you?"

Ludwig looked _him _over. Out of all the people he knew, he was pretty sure only Lili and Feliciano were skinner than Lovino Vargas Carriedo. Or Carriedo Vargas. Ludwig didn't particularly care. "I'm pretty sure," he decided.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Oh, wow. The German used sarcasm." After a thoughtful moment, he added, "I hate you. Thought you'd like to know."

"I'm sure everyone knows, Lovino."

((((()))))

"Geeeeeeeeez," Feliks moaned, languidly kicking his legs up in the air. He was currently laying on top of the kitchen table, bored out of his pretty head. "I told you this idea was, like, stupid, Liet. Why on earth did you tell me to take you to a stupid house and wait on stupid Ludwig?"

Toris, staring up at the dark ceiling, absently hummed. "Interesting way of thinking, Pol. When something doesn't go according to your plans, it's immediately my fault, right?"

"Hey!" he grumbled. "You told me you'd rather come here than let me find you that pretty blonde."

"It was a red-head."

"Whatever. And red clashes with your dark brown. Don't know what the heck I was on when I said that."

While he droned on, now occupied with mentally creating Toris's perfect girl, Toris himself angled his phone towards the ceiling once more. Having to wait on Ludwig had only served to increase his curiosity. He knew the boards were probably too weak for any upstairs investigation, but he couldn't help but wonder. Maybe the second and third floors were the parts that were haunted? Tavian had to have some basis to his claim. Toris knew him well enough that he simply wouldn't make up rumors.

He also knew Tavian would have poked around himself to see if the rumor was true or not.

A slight chill wracked through him. It wasn't midnight yet.

Feliks noticed his worried look and sighed. "You know Tavian makes up all that ghost crap, right? He actually thinks Vlad the Impaler was a vampire hunter. That's why he killed everyone. He thought they were all vampires."

Well, it did make sense.

Toris forced a nod. "Y-you're right. But maybe we should…?"

"Way ahead of you!" Feliks gleefully shouted, hopping off the table. He grabbed Toris's arm and dragged him over to the stairs. Naturally, he pushed Toris forward to test the staircase's strength. Surprisingly enough, it held.

The two timidly made their way up to the second floor, wincing at every creak the floorboards made. After two steps that nearly made his heart stop, Toris decided coming upstairs had been a terrible idea. They were going to break the floor and crash down, breaking their necks. Ludwig would come in and find them dead. "You're freaking out," Feliks sang. He was worry-free, skipping forward to check out the antique loveseat.

Toris took a deep breath. He was freaking out. He didn't need to be freaking out. Houses were made sturdier eighty years ago, after all. Who was to say it still couldn't hold them up?

The air was thick and musky, but thankfully did not have the same stench as the living room. Dust thickly coated every surface. Feliks and Toris quickly got rid of it with their sneezing. The silence, too, was almost numbing. Even with the windows barren of glass, almost no sound could be heard from the quiet streets below- no cicadas rattling, no cars or ostentatious white vans driving past.

"I think I found the master bedroom," Feliks announced, coughing away the dust that flew up when he opened the door. Toris warily peeked over his shoulder. This was the last room on the second floor. Since they hadn't found any other stairs, they assumed the third floor was merely an attic, and thus not important enough for them to try and climb up in it. Feliks stopped in the doorway. "You know, I kinda lied. Tavian doesn't make his stupid ghost stories up."

"I know," Toris shakily nodded.

"So," Feliks continued with a gulp, "if something nasty, like, pops up at us and tries to, like, eat our souls, I want you to know that you've totes been the best friend I ever had."

"More than Tavian?"

"More than Tavian."

"Thanks, Pol. You're my best friend too."

He should have seen it coming. In one fluid moment, Feliks spun out of the doorway and behind Toris. With a muttered apology, he shoved with all his might. Toris fell face-first onto the cold floor. Behind him, Feliks slammed the door shut. "Holler if some undead creature of the dark, like, tries to zombify you! I'll stay out here and look for Ludwig! Remember, you're, like, my _best _friend!"

The second he found a way to open the door, which had been jammed shut when Feliks slammed it, Toris was going to turn Feliks over to Ivan. For an _entire day._

((((()))))

It was the most harrowing two minutes and twenty-eight seconds of their lives. Who knew breaking into the room of the most-protective-dad-ever's daughter could have been so easy? It turns out Lovino had been wrong- Vash must have made Lili switch rooms with him and Zira, on the first floor, when he found out Lovino knew where she slept. Things had been even easier when Lili saw them approach.

The scary part was when Feliciano knocked over the curtains on his way inside.

"Lili, what was that? Are you okay?"

Every heart in the room stopped beating. Lili somehow managed to restart hers and called back, "Yeah, _Vati_, I'm fine! I accidentally knocked down the curtains. I'm… I'm rearranging my room. I thought my desk could have a better view?"

Heavy, uncomfortable silence prevailed as they waited for Vash to break into the room, wielding every gun in the house on his person. Instead, he uncertainly replied, "Are you sure you should be doing that by yourself? Do you need help?"

"No, no! That's okay. I'll… wait until after school tomorrow."

"…Alright."

"Um, good night, _Vati_! Love you!"

Still having slight difficulty in breathing, Lili flicked the lights off. Lovino helpfully pulled out his phone. The girl simply stared at them a moment, uncertain as to whether this was a dream or not. She had never had a dream this crazy, so that unfortunately meant the three standing before her really _had _just come for her in the middle of the night, knowing that Vash would literally blow their brains out if he knew this was happening just down the hall.

She had to say she was impressed.

And awfully worried for their mental health.

Lovino nervously shrugged. "Want to go hang out in a haunted house that's apparently not haunted?"

"And it apparently smells very badly," Feliciano chimed.

Not wanting to be left out, Ludwig added, "I heard it's a very romantic place."

He didn't react in the slightest to Lovino's bony elbow jabbing into his side. Instead, Lovino was the once to nearly cry out in pain, cradling his sore arm. "Do you wear a bullet-proof vest under your clothes?" he furiously whispered.

Considering the location and situation, that actually would have been a pretty good idea.

However, Lili merely shook her head exasperatedly. "You guys wait out in the car. Let me change and I'll be right out. And Feliciano? _Please _be careful."

They were going to die.

**Translations**

**French-**

_**Mon cher- my dear**_

**Lithuanian-**

_**Mes tave myliu.- We love you.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Ayumi Kudou: DX When you said suicide room, I got bad Hetaoni flashbacks…. But anyway! Haha, he's the classic overprotective father. I've always thought that, even in canon. If I were Lili… geez. Life would be a little lonely. But hey, at least Vash hasn't killed Lovino yet. That's always good, right? So deep deeeeeeeeep down inside, Vash must realize that they might possibly be good for each other. XD Lovely story, by the way!**

**Sebastiaan is going to be explained earlier than I had planned. Hmm. Anyway, he's Luxembourg! I'm actually surprised no one guessed who he was.**

**Chapter 4-**

_Dear Gilbert- wow, it sounds weird to write to you formally. It's been a while since I've talked to you informally, too. Sorry about that. I've been busy, and you probably have been too._

"You know, it's hard to believe it's been twenty-five years."

Gilbert frowned. For no reason in particular, their random driving had led them _here_, back to the house where they had seen Brandon for the last time. The soft rustling of the trees had carried with it the elated screams of several stupid teenagers running away from the police and Arthur Kirkland's wrath. It slammed into Gilbert's chest, settling a heavy weight on him. But what was he guilty of? Brandon had been the idiot.

_I know you and _Vati _sent me off to Germany for a few years. However, I don't think I'm going to last the first._

"Did you bring me here on purpose?" Gilbert sighed, propping his feet up on the dashboard. Francis sent him a dirty look but didn't say a word against him. Gilbert turned to the window, looking out at the stars. He had learned to appreciate things like stars- even with the black of night all around them, they refused to go out. Even when clouds covered the sky, they were still there, still shining.

_I'm sorry I'm wasting all the money we saved up to get me to Germany. Playing camp councilor, fixing up Aria's Ferrari, and working part-time at Red Flower was hard work, wasn't it? Geez, we had _no _life last summer. But Gilbert, I'm mostly sorry for leaving. I didn't even get to say goodbye to you, since you were still sleeping off that party when _Vati _and I left for the airport._

Brandon, once upon a time, had been like a star to him. Always there to pull him out of trouble, always there to give him a smile. In his own way, he had been better than Antonio in cheering everyone up. Brandon was friends with anyone and everyone- even Arthur, who both hated and loved them. Gilbert still didn't understand that and figured he never would.

_I miss everyone. I miss seeing you guys goof off and mess with Roderich and Arthur. Elizabeta fussed at us so much for that- but we both know she found it hilarious too. Try not to raid her locker or bedroom for that camcorder, okay? Two year's worth of videos were enough. Hopefully Francis is satisfied. If not, tell him to get a new hobby. No one in the future is going to care about a bunch of idiots._

The Frenchman huffily sighed. "Well, I just assumed you needed some cheering up. You've been awfully quiet lately."

"Like a good, awesome parent, I've been freaking out. Thanks for asking."

_I know I'm a jerk for doing this when you are all expecting me to come home soon. After I say what I need to, you're going to hate me, Gilbert. But there are a few things I want to ask of you, since I'm a selfish lowlife. First, take care of _Vati_, okay? He's been a pretty unorthodox dad, you've gotta admit. Try and make him awesome for me, would you?_

"He's going to come back, Gilbert. Ludwig isn't like Brandon."

True, Ludwig wasn't a thing like his brother. Brandon had been loud and proud- had taught Gilbert everything he knew about being awesome. Before Antonio had come along, he had been the main perpetrator of each scheme Francis and Gilbert were involved in. In fact, Brandon was the reason they had become friends in the first place.

_Next, I want you to make sure the gang stays together. Even if it kills you, be nicer to Arthur. Just a little? Remember that you, Francis, and Elizabeta have known each other since you guys were five- it took serious dedication to stay friends that long, and I don't want you to ruin it now that you're are older._

On the very first day of kindergarten, Gilbert and Elizabeta had gotten into a massive fight over something neither could remember. Francis had attempted to butt in, and had promptly gotten a black eye. While they sat in the office, listening to their parents talk to the principal, Brandon snuck in and complimented their fighting skills. Gilbert and Francis immediately started to boast. Elizabeta merely rolled her eyes. From that day forward, they had been best friends.

Gilbert really missed being a kid.

But most of all, he missed his brother.

_And lastly… I want you to remember me and this letter. This is the last time I'll ever speak to you, Gilbert. Know that I'm sorry. Tell the others I'm sorry. Once I'm gone- which I probably will be, by the time you get this- don't forget me. Try not to hate me too much, alright?_

"Want to go inside?" Francis asked, lightly smirking in hopefulness.

Gilbert felt himself wilt. The words in his mouth tasted like sickness. "I can't go in there until Brandon comes back."

_I'm going to leave you forever. You won't find me, because I don't want you to have to see that. Please don't think I'm a coward. I already know I am, but I want you to remember me as the awesome big brother you knew. And I love you too, Mini-Awesome._

"Gilbert," he lowly groaned. "Didn't you hear me earlier? It's been _twenty-five years_. You read that letter. He's not coming back, Gilbert, because Brandon is-"

"Brandon isn't dead!" Gilbert shouted, finally snapping around. Francis flinched back at his outburst. He leaned into the door, trying to make as much space between him and Gilbert as possible. Gilbert took notice, and fell back.. "Sorry."

"I don't know why he did it either," Francis softly said. "If I knew he was going to do something stupid like that, I swear I would have hijacked his plane and sent him back home. You know I would I have."

"Please shut up, Francis."

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward again. "If you don't want to hear it from me, who else are you going to listen to? Antonio? Because that ended up with you breaking his nose."

Gilbert winced at the memory. But in his defense, he had just gotten his brother's letter, and was a little crazy. After spending the entire day drinking, he was probably still a little drunk, too. Having Antonio try and console had made him lash out. If Francis hadn't been there to hold him back, Gilbert suspected more than a nose would have been broken.

A vehicle gingerly rolled past them, momentarily lighting the interior of the car. Gilbert caught sight of Francis's tired frown. He turned away before Francis could see his own. "How about we go back to my house, and I'll break out party supplies. We can surprise Ludwig."

The look on Francis's face told him the issue was not dropped. However, he nodded in agreement. "What exactly are we celebrating, Gilbert?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, forcing a wicked grin on his face. "Do we really need a reason to party?"

"I suppose not."

"Then get a move on, Francy-Pants! We're not getting any younger!"

((((()))))

By six a.m., Alice was downstairs and ready for breakfast. Her mother, Isabella van Houten, was already starting on the dishes. Sebastiaan sat at the table, half asleep, trying to eat his cereal. Alice couldn't resist sneaking up behind him and grabbing his shoulders.

In an instant, Sebastiaan was wide awake, jolting backwards in surprise. "Alice!" he complained, quickly dabbing at the milk he'd accidentally spilled on himself.

She giggled as she sat down beside him. "Sorry. It's just so tempting! You always have the best reactions."

"Eat quickly, dear. You've both got a long drive, if you're meeting Lars at Turnhout," Isabella said, giving a swift kiss to her hair. "I've got to get ready for work. You two can get yourselves out the door?"

Sebastiaan nodded, fighting off a yawn. He had just gotten to sleep when his alarm had gone off that morning. But still, he had told his dad he wanted to be the best business man West Europe had ever seen, so he had to work his hardest. Spending nearly all the money he had saved up over the years, his father had sent him to Brussels. Germany was too far away, and his father had explicitly told him he was going no farther than Belgium unless he came along too.

Even after meeting his real mother and figuring out his dad wasn't _really _his father, he couldn't refer to him as otherwise. It was almost the same with Isabella and Alice- yes, they were his mother and sister, but the titles were still too strange and foreign. He had to catch himself from saying "Isabella" every time he addressed his mother.

Lars was especially strange to him. It hadn't exactly been pleasant to watch Alice blow up at him for lying to her about Isabella and Sebastiaan. Seeing that, it was almost impossible to call him a brother. But if Alice had finally forgiven him, Sebastiaan was going to try his best to see him as family too. Tall, scary family, but family nonetheless.

After the promised swift breakfast, Sebastiaan began loading up his car. His father had also insisted on buying it for him before he left, so he could drive to Brussels and see the sights along the way. His father was crazy about fond memories. He used to tell Sebastiaan all the time that one day, when he was as old as him, those memories would be the only thing to keep him going.

Sebastiaan hadn't realized it before, but his father had always been a sad man.

"You should cheer up," Alice advised him, gently packing her laptop away in the backseat for future easy access. "I'm the one who's supposed to be sour- not you."

He smiled. "Right. Sorry. Do you have everything?"

At her nod, Sebastiaan tried to relax and push his father out of his mind. If he didn't, he might drive west to Luxembourg instead of north to Turnhout.

"We're going to have to meet your dad next," Alice reminded him, donning a smile that assured him her wish would come true. "He seems like an awesome guy."

Sebastiaan rolled his eyes. "He ran a flower shop in the middle of Luxembourg City, though he said he grew up in a more rural area. Imagine a skinny guy, too nice for his own good. He has a weird ponytail thing going on, so he looks exactly like Frederick the Great. Got that mental picture? That's my dad."

"He looks like Frederick the Great? Cool. He definitely sounds like someone awesome to me," she decided. "Anyone willing to do so much for their kid has to be amazing."

Sebastiaan couldn't argue with that. His father was the nicest person he knew. Even though he hated Sebastiaan's dog with a passion, he had promised to take great care of him while Sebastiaan was away. That took serious dedication. Now that he thought about it, Lars had shown the same dedication. According to Alice, she had been living with him since she was four- thus why she hadn't remembered Isabella, Sebastiaan, or their real father.

He may have never told her or intended for her to ever hear of her other family, but Lars had to be one heck of a brother to raise his little sister. Maybe Alice had realized that and was sorry for screaming at him. Sebastiaan hoped so, because he wouldn't be able to stand another argument if things didn't go smoothly.

Slightly wincing, Sebastiaan asked, "Could you… tell me a bit about Lars?"

Alice's face fell. She looked out at the passing people in the city, all bustling along. Just watching them made her miss Heta. Three years hadn't done anything to make her miss it less. Until Lars had called her yesterday, asking to see her, Alice thought he had gone back to America.

What had she been thinking? It didn't matter if she was living with her real mother and real second brother. Lars was too protective to simply leave her in Brussels and go on his merry way. No, he had definitely stayed in Amsterdam, close enough to come and get her should anything happen.

That was precisely why she agreed to meet up with him. Lars was the only certainty she knew in Europe. Lovino and the others probably thought she fell off the face of the earth or something. Alice had to see someone she knew well or she'd explode. She wanted to speak English and have someone understand her. Absently, she wondered if it would be hard to switch back to English after three years of speaking nothing but Dutch. Probably not, but she didn't know for sure.

"I don't know where to begin," Alice shrugged at last. "I mean, Lars is a pretty complex guy."

"We have a while before we get to him. Start at the beginning. What are some of his hobbies? Or… or what do you think he does for a living?"

She flashed him a smile. That was exactly what Alice liked about him. Sebastiaan was always so concerned about what jobs people had. If they worked at a place they liked, they had to be happy. If not, they were grumpy. His father had told him that.

While Alice started rattling off everything she knew about Lars, Sebastiaan's mind couldn't help but fly back, once again, to his father.

It was going to be a long drive.

((((()))))

"What the heck were Francis and Gilbert doing here?" Lovino worriedly demanded, craning his neck around to see them still sitting in front of the house. Until they left, Ludwig was driving around the block.

Beside him, Lili nervously bit at her lip, staining her teeth with clear, sparkly gloss. It was the only kind of makeup Vash allowed her to wear. He was paranoid that she would end up a hooker if she wore anything more. "You don't think my father sent them after us, do you?"

"How would he know where we're going?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. Oh, Ludwig. Always so stupid. "I know Vash has _my _car bugged. He probably did the same to your rusty death trap. I bet he wired every guy's car in case anyone decides to make off with Lili in the middle of the night."

"Like now?" she giggled. Ludwig nervously looked back at her. Lili, for one, didn't care. She only had two weeks to spend a lot of time with Lovino, and she was going to savor the moment. Plus, she had never been to a haunted house. She had never had three boys come and offer to take her to a haunted house. This was the most exciting thing Lili had ever done, and she wasn't going to let anything ruin it.

"Precisely," he nodded, putting an arm around her. Now in the front seat, Feliciano hid his giggle. Lovino had completely forgotten he looked like a bum. Lili didn't seem to care, though, as she leaned on his shoulder. To Feliciano, it was the most romantic thing ever. Well, them on a gondola floating through the waterways of Venice would be the most romantic thing ever. This was second best.

Feliciano brightly smiled, sticking his head out the window to survey the area for any signs of Francis and Gilbert. After seeing they were long gone, he shouted the okay, and hopped outside. Lili was second to exit, almost bouncing with excitement. This was going to be so much fun!

Still peering through the darkness for any sign of Francis and Gilbert, Ludwig pushed the rickety door open. After gagging on the stench, the four proceeded to find the dining room. Feliciano squealed in excitement, plopping down in the chair on the end. He gave his brother and Lili an evil smirk. "Did you know a man was killed in this room, in this very chair?"

As Lovino tackled him out of the chair, screeching something about how demons were going to possess him in a minute, Lili and Ludwig wandered to the other side of the room, by a large window. Ludwig squinted into the night. He could almost see Arthur's old house. Lili grabbed hold of his arm. "Do you hear that?" she whispered.

The two Italians paused their momentary fight. "Don't touch him, Lili, you might catch stupid-German-itis!" Lovino shouted, immediately coming to rescue her from Ludwig's terrible influence. She latched herself onto his arm instead. After a moment, Lovino said, "Sounds like something's upstairs. Stupid Head. Go investigate. If you're not back in five minutes, I'm declaring you dead, and we're going back home to get Feliciano exorcised."

"For the last time, _Fratello_, I was just pretending to be Gilbert!"

"Shut up! That's the demons talking, _Fratellino_!"

"But _Papà_ was never possessed!"

"HE MARRIED ARIA, DIDN'T HE? WORK OF THE DEVIL, FELI."

Ludwig palmed himself. He was going to ban Feli from his German chocolate cake for telling Lovino about all of this. Even though Lili's presence thankfully stopped Lovino from calling him more than "Stupid Head", he was still incredibly annoying. Ludwig started up the stairs, swearing to never call his father insufferable again. Feliciano and Lovino, especially when _together_, were worse than Gilbert any day. Even on DDR Thursdays.

The second Ludwig reached the second floor, he instantly wanted to turn back and face the Vargas brothers below.

"Like, about time you got here!" Feliks burst, looking up from his perfectly manicured nails.

"Delightful. Feli, Lovino, and Lili are downstairs. I'll break down the door in a moment. Have you seen anything about a boy named Brandon Beilschmit?"

For a moment, Feliks stared at him. "Whoa. How are you not Swiss cheese right now?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "I take that as a 'no'. Where is Toris?"

Feliks pointed down the hall with his nail file. "Liet, like, locked himself up in the bedroom. I think a ghost may have eaten him. Anyways, I haven't found anything about any brooding Beilschmits. Sorry. Great-grandpa live here? No, wait a minute, he was the Na-" A swift punch to his shoulder effectively shut Feliks up. The Pole skipped away, rubbing his arm, which he suspected was now broken. Gosh, did he hate Ludwig.

This was really beginning to seem more and more like a bad idea.

"Toris?" Ludwig asked, coming to a stop at the only closed door.

"Ludwig?" he replied. Toris let out a muffled sigh of relief. "Thank God you're here. I can't pick the lock on this thing."

Well, he couldn't pick the lock, but he was pretty sure he could break the door down. After telling Toris to back up, Ludwig gave the thing a solid kick. It easily fell, the rusty hinges ripped apart. The bedroom looked to be more affected by the flow of time than any other room. Ripped, moldy curtains lay beneath the window. A chilly breeze blew in from the lone window, making both boys shiver a moment. The striped wallpaper was ruined from leakage and discolored from sunlight and weather.

But Ludwig looked past the ghoulish area to a picture frame sat up on the table. The same blonde face he'd seen countless times with a young Gilbert and Francis stared back at him, smirking the exact same way Gilbert did. It was certainly dusty, but the frame looked new- it couldn't have been but a few years old. "It's him," Ludwig awed, stepping onto the door next to Toris. "One of them came back. Someone came here after Brandon disappeared!"

An echoing crack was heard, and the floor beneath the door opened, dragging Toris and Ludwig to the depths below.

((((()))))

"Monica, why were you hiding under Arthur's porch?" Matthew tiredly asked, ducking to He had just gotten to sleep when Michelle burst into the room, quietly freaking out over Monica's latest disappearance. She didn't want to worry Therese. While she turned the house upside down behind her mother's back, Matthew pulled on his sneakers and went to Arthur's house. If Monica wasn't under Michelle's bed or trying to stuff something in the mailbox, she was off at Arthur's. "You know Papa doesn't hide under there when he goes out."

Monica sweetly smiled. "Your face is red," she beamed. Her own face was smudged with dirt.

Wilting, Matthew nodded. "It's called a sunburn. It's not a good thing, Monica." He helped the girl crawl out of her hiding place and dusted off her golden curls. Her hair was still slightly damp from the shower she had just had an hour ago. Therese was not going to be happy about this.

The little girl grabbed Matthew's hand, tugging on his arm. "Guess what," she began, giggling as Matthew swung their arms.

"Hmm? Look both ways, Monica."

She paused a moment, critically inspecting the road for any signs of cars. After seeing the coast was clear, she nodded her okay. "Alfie talk about a scary house! Twelfth Street, down a hill. Arthur call him a wanker. Mattie, what's a wanker?"

"Monica! It's not nice to eavesdrop!" Matthew halfheartedly scolded. Monica never listened to him anyway. The girl patiently waited on his explanation. "Wanker is a funny word Arthur likes to say. I don't know what it means."

"Artie call Papa a wanker," Monica helpfully said.

"Arthur calls _everyone _a wanker."

Monica nodded. However, she quickly furrowed her eyebrows. "Mattie?"

He looked down at her. "Yeah?"

She dug her toe into the grass. Matthew withheld the sigh. He would have to start gluing shoes onto this child's feet. And Monica-proof all the doors and windows. Twisting her lips, Monica slowly said, "Artie sound mad. And sad. Why?"

Matthew knelt down with a frown. "What do you mean, Monica?"

"After he told Alfie about the house, he got loud. He ask who was there. Alfie told him Lu and Pol and Toris. Artie was mad about Lu. Then he got sad, because Lu wasn't s'posed know. Why?" Monica repeated. She worriedly looked over her shoulder. "Artie's always mad at Papa and Alfie, but not sad. I don't want him sad. That's why I have to lie when I eat Artie's food. Don't tell Papa and Mama, please."

He had to push the smile of his face. It was obvious Monica hated eating Arthur's scones- she made a face every time. But it was endearing, how she forced a smile on her face. Matthew tucked her hair behind her ears, fixing the clip that was about to be swallowed in the curls. "Don't worry about Arthur. Alfie will make sure he's happy soon. But it's past your bed time, little girl. Do you know what happens to little girls who stay up past their bed time?"

Ignoring the screaming of his skin, Matthew launched a flurry of tickles. "They get a visit from the tickle monster!" he cried in his best monster growl. "Hurry, we have to get you to bed!"

"Hurry!" Monica agreed, running back to the sanctuary of the front door, where Michelle had appeared. She scooped Monica up into her arms, fussing over the mud on her feet. Matthew met Michelle's smile and sheepishly grinned.

"Don't tell Mom?"

Matthew nodded. "Don't tell Mom."


	5. Chapter 5

**So. I went on vacation to Carowinds. Then, after being home one day, I helped my mother and cousin break into my grandfather's cabin because he had given us the wrong key, and the boonies are scary at night. XD Trust me, breaking and entering is not easy (literally on the "breaking" part- we kinda pulled the air conditioner out and now it is in various pieces in the shed. By the way, this was the same one my grandmother and I spent an hour on trying to put **_**in **_**the window just a year or two ago.) **

**Randomness aside, excuse for not updating given, Carowinds was **_**freaking awesome**_**- alright, here we are. Please enjoy your chapter (and don't call the cops on us!)**

**Chapter 5-**

_A somber scene fazed into view. Dressed in black, faces in a hard frown, stood Gilbert and Brandon. Behind them was a tiny mound of freshly dug dirt, a large rock settled on top. Two tiny flags stuck up from the dirt- a Spanish flag and a Mexican flag. From behind the camcorder, Roderich announced they were rolling._

"_Dearly Beloved," Gilbert began in a loud voice, gesturing widely to the empty yard, "we gather here today at the Fernandez-Carriedo home to host a funeral for a dear friend."_

"_Yes," Brandon continued, just as theatrical as his brother. "Fernando was a dear friend indeed- just not to us. Buried in this holy ground lies the evilest Chihuahua to ever live. With his death, Fernando left his unfortunate owner, Antonio, and aforementioned owner's parents, Johanna and Felipe. It is unknown as to whether or not this stupid animal had any remaining family."_

"_For the sake everyone out there, we sincerely hope and pray he was the last."_

_Antonio's worried face butted in to whisper, "Don't you think that's a little mean, _amigos_? Fernando was _un perro muy mal _to me, but maybe not to _Señor Brown._ And his _familia _may have been nice little Chihuahuas."_

_Gilbert rolled his eyes. "You got the thing from some weirdo guy living down the street from you. Fernando hated you and all of existence from day one, and randomly decided to keel over just two weeks after you got him. Plus, I think that Brown dude thinks you guys are Mexican instead of Spanish."_

_A totally blank came over his face. "_Qué_? Why would he think that? I am from an entirely different continent."_

"_You speak Spanish like they do," Brandon put in helpfully._

_However, he was still confused as to how his neighbor could have possibly gotten his nationality wrong. Sure, Spanish and Mexican people spoke the same language (with differing dialects), but Antonio's house had a huge Spanish flag flying off of it! How in the world could he have missed _that _thing?_

_Roderich cleared his throat, interrupting them. "You promised me cake if I did this for you. So shall we get a move on, please?"_

"_I am amazed you aren't fat," Brandon said, shaking his head incredulously. "I mean, seriously. Your diet pretty much consists of cake and only cake, but you're such a scrawny little shrimp. Do you even weigh ninety pounds yet? Totally unawesome."_

_Though he kept his face well out of the camcorder's reach, it was evident it was deep red. Roderich stuttered out something unintelligible and pointedly directed the camcorder to Fernando's grave. "The Chihuahua was a terrible pet, his family may or may not have been as horrible as he, and I think he may be missed one day, but for now, is not. There. The funeral is over."_

"_No respect! Do you know how unawesome it is to rush a person's funeral? Why don't you do the Polka over his grave, too? Geez, Roddy," Gilbert burst, aghast. "You're such a jerk."_

"_That's it. I'm calling Elizabeta right now to tell her you stole her camcorder again."_

"_NO!" all three boys burst. Antonio started to mutter in Spanish, eyes wide in fear. It looked as if he would go into fetal position any second. Brandon wrenched the camcorder out of Roderich's hands and shoved it in Gilbert's face. "Go, Mini-Awesome! Antonio, stop crying and help me tie up Roddy!"_

"_T-tie?"_

"Sí_, Brandon! _Lo siento_, Roderich, but I cannot let you tell Elizabeta!"_

"_HEY! Unhand me!"_

_Even with their voices fading, even with Gilbert's howling cackle, Roderich's girly scream was easily heard. "REMOVE YOUR HANDS, FRANCIS!"_

_Gilbert skidded to a halt to give a wolf whistle. His ecstatic face came into view. "In case you were wondering, we had Francis hiding nearby in case Roddy decided to get difficult. Thank you, awesome future peoples, for kindly watching. By the way, if one of you happens to be my kid, don't tell your mom this ever happened, okay? Elizabeta will kill us for sure. _Adios_!" he crowed in a horrible accent, giving a strict salute._

((((()))))

It was silly, Ludwig thought as Feliciano screamed in his ear and his body ached, to think of how Gilbert had it all wrong in that video. He thought he would marry Elizabeta. He had no idea she would end up with Roderich. Vaguely, Ludwig wondered what his father had thought his future would turn out to be. Surely he hadn't anticipated all the devastation. No one wants to imagine a future where heartache lay around every corner.

But, his barely coherent mind figured, mentally preparing one's self wouldn't be too bad an idea. That way, one might have a better chance of coping with the loss. Ludwig didn't want to believe it, but now he couldn't help but think Brandon had died. Gilbert hated loss more than anything. Losing his brother must have been terrible; it must have been so awful that he refused to acknowledge him anymore, even going as far as to hide the happiest years of his life in the back of his mind.

"Liet!"

Ludwig's eyes snapped open at that scream. His eyes burned from the dust floating about in the air and he couldn't exactly focus on the blurry faces hanging over his. Two figures had bobbed auburn hair- Feliciano and Lovino. Lili must have been the pale blob between the two brothers, reaching out to slick back the hair that had fallen in his face. One brown figure burst into tears. The other got up and ran to his other side, shouting rapidly.

The sobs, the shouting, the frantic screaming- it all made him even dizzier. To keep from going back to sleep, Ludwig flexed his fingers. Next, wiggled his toes. Since neither action sent waves of pain, he checked them off as clear. Gingerly, he pushed himself up on his elbows. Feliciano helped pull him up to a sitting position. "Are you okay?" the boy demanded, sloppily scrubbing at his eyes. Ludwig hated tears. Feliciano must have been trying his best to keep himself from crying for his sake.

"I'm fine," he groggily replied. The next keening wail reached his ears.

He looked over to see an unconscious Toris, shirt already soaked with tears. Feliks was just barely held back by Lovino, yelling in his ear not to touch him, in case something was broken. Feliks didn't even seem to hear him.

Ludwig was able to move without blinking out, and nothing was bent at the wrong angle. Besides an obvious slight concussion, he was fine. Now, he had to assess Toris's condition and act accordingly. However, he couldn't stop his mind from blearily wandering back to Gilbert. Had he done this when Brandon died? Had he been the one to put that picture upstairs as a sort of memorial, like they had put the flags on Fernando's grave?

Feliks broke out of Lovino's hold, snapping Ludwig's mind back to the situation at hand. He grabbed Toris's shoulders, face contorted into something simply painful to look at. "I'm sorry!" he burst. "Wake up! I'm _sorry!_"

Beside him, Feliciano openly shuddered at the wail, grabbing his shirt sleeves. "It's okay," Ludwig automatically said. "Toris is fine. Feliks is just overreacting, alright? Lili, call your mother," Ludwig instantly said. The girl instantly nodded and rushed away to call in quiet.

Feliciano let out a choked breath and ran off himself, muttering, "I'll bring some pillows from the living room."

Ludwig felt his heart sink at the terror so blatantly present in his eyes. Feli was just so fragile, and Ludwig was terrified to think of a day when he would crack. It was unnerving to see how long he had gone without letting the past catch up to him.

_Situation at hand. Worry can come later._

"Feliks!" Ludwig barked. With tearing eyes, the blonde snapped his head up. Lovino decided to let Ludwig handle this mess and looked Toris over for any obvious broken bones. Already some bruises were popping up. Ludwig supposed the same went for him, too. He took a deep breath. He really didn't want to admit it, but Lovino was almost right about him being an emotionless brick wall. All Ludwig did was worry- worry over Feliciano, Gilbert, Kiku, and everyone else. Unfortunately, the worrying did nothing to help him figure out how to solve the problem.

Try as he might, Ludwig found it impossible to fix people.

Feliks didn't give him a chance to speak. "I locked him in there," he ground out. Squeezing his eyes shut, Feliks grabbed at his hair. "I killed him. I killed him! It's Anelie all over again!"

"He's not de-"

"It's all my fault!" Feliks cried, cutting Lovino off. He shook his head. "This is always my fault!"

Ludwig shot out his arms, grabbing his shoulders. "Don't say that!" he yelled, trying to see past the dark spots dancing all over his vision. "Feliks, Toris is _not _dead."

"But I always-"

"_Halt die klappe_, Feliks!" In the wake of his shout, Ludwig realized Feliks was just as fragile as Feliciano- if not more so. Or perhaps in a different way. Feliciano was porcelain, Feliks was glass. Gilbert would be- what? What could possibly last longer than those with the same strain and wear?

Lili's white dress- now a pale brown from the dust- popped up in his peripheral. "I called my mother. She's on her way. She told me _Vati _is in bed, so you all are okay. I'm grounded for a week, though."

"We'll move Wednesday's date to next Saturday then," Lovino said, taking the time to flash her a dazzling and very Italian smile. Ludwig barely restrained himself from smacking the back of his head. This was not a time to be flirting, even if it was in his genes to do so!

A light groan interrupted them all. Feliks anxiously breathed, "Liet? Liet, are you okay?"

Toris shifted slightly, but remained locked away in unconsciousness. Feliks swallowed hard and clenched the hem of his shirt. "I'm sorry, Liet," he murmured, sniffling. "I'm so sorry."

((((()))))

"_My name is Choi Bong Chung. I do not know English."_

"_That's okay. I'm Wang Yong Soo. _Naneun hangug al-ayo._"_

It was a match made in heaven- it _had _to be. Bong Chung was the cabbage to his kimchi. She was the Kwon Sun to his Kwon Jin. At that moment, Yong Soo had made a mental note to thank Alfred for getting him hooked on LOST. But really, she had looked so beautiful. Her hair shined in the fluorescent hallway lighting, her eyes glimmered with bold confidence. Even the boring, plain dress she wore looked stunning on her. Yong Soo was sure nothing could make her any less beautiful.

Everything around him seemed to halt when she smiled, relieved she had found someone she could talk to. Yong Soo almost melted at the sight. Instead, he kept his cool and invited her to lunch with him, Tao, and Michelle. It wasn't long after that she started dropping by Red Flower. He took her to the arcade after sharing some kimchi, and she kicked his butt in DDR. Although Yong Soo was sure no one could be a better DDR competitor than Kiku, Bong Chung was a very close second.

They spend almost every waking hour they could together, listening to K-Pop, cooking, practicing their Korean and English. Bong Chung was best friends with Ivan and Yao, and her mother more or less could stand having Yong Soo in her presence. Bong Chung was perfection, and Yong Soo was honestly in love with her. After three years, surely she liked him too, right?

But if that was the case, why couldn't he dispel the fears from his mind and go to sleep?

Yong Soo frowned into the darkness. After a moment, he rolled over, facing Tao's bed. He was face planted in his pillow. However, like every good twin, Yong Soo tiptoed over and tugged on his hair. "Tao!" he stage whispered. "I know you're awake!"

"I am not. Shut up."

The boy pursed his lips. "I _will _sit on you."

"You're such a spaz," Tao sleepily grumbled, blandly regarding him with a well-aimed flick to the forehead. Seeing Yong Soo's persistence, he sat up on his elbows. "It's four in the freaking morning, Soo. What do you want?"

"It's barely one," he argued, hopping up on the bed. Yong Soo kicked his feet. "Even though I'm Korean and I'm cooler than you'll ever be, I must admit I need your advice."

Tao's reply was quick. "Get off my bed. Go back to your own bed. Count in Japanese to 100, then go to sleep. And stop worrying about Kiku's stupid history thing. It's messing with your head. Now shoo."

Now it was Yong Soo's turn to flick _him _in the forehead. "I refuse to count in Japanese! Do you _know _what the Japanese did to the Koreans at the beginning of the twentieth century? And even before that, when they were still samurais and stuff! It was terrible! I hate the Japanese!"

Tao rolled his eyes. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sure Kiku and Mom will be delighted to hear that, Soo. Now, give me one good reason as to why Bong Chung would go all North Korea on you. Be friendly to the Russian and Dad does not constitute as a reason either."

Yong Soo had to think about that one. Not that he was self-centered or anything, but Yong Soo regarded himself as a lovely young man. He was nice, smart, _and _Korean. Well, okay, he wasn't _really _Korean. Just his name, because his mother decided that since they had given one kid a Japanese name and the other two Chinese names, why not give the last one a Korean name? However, he was Korean at heart, and that was all that mattered!

"…Maybe she won't like me because she doesn't like the headphones I got her? O-or maybe I make my kimchi too salty?"

Tao sighed, listening to him anxiously rattle off. Won't like him because he's exactly two inches taller than her? Because of that annoying hair that sticks out and won't stay combed down? "I think the only thing she doesn't like about you is how stupid you are," Tao bluntly said. Yong Soo faced him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "You're worried that the chick who's been glued to your side for three years will magically decide to hate you? That she'll wake up and decide, 'Hey, I think I'll go ignore the love of my life for a while because he's _insert imperfection here_?'"

Yong Soo blinked. Tao pushed him off the bed, making him stumble. "You're a nice guy. She's a nice girl. At the rate you two are going, you're probably be going to Seoul in a few years to elope. So shut up, go to bed, and stop worrying. Good night, Yong Soo."

In all finality, Tao smushed his pillow back over his face.

He let out an angry huff. Yong Soo _knew _he should have went to Yao for advice. His dad was practically a walking fortune cookie! And, speaking of fortune cookies, Yao liked to hand them out randomly. Yong Soo could go for a midnight snack….

As per usual, Yao sat in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by bills and finances. The muted TV lit him up, making his panda pajamas look extravagant. Long hair, undone from the ponytail, hung over his shoulder.

Yong Soo sighed. And they said he was the crazy one? His eyes locked onto the bowl of fortune cookies and other delicious sweets at his father's side. He was willing to be the crazy one. "Hey, _Appa_," Yong Soo cheerfully greeted, taking him by surprise. After making sure Yao wasn't going to choke on his snack, Yong Soo put on a smile, which instantly brought a frown to Yao's face.

"Just because I'm doing the money doesn't mean we have a lot, and you're getting a bigger allowance," Yao deadpanned, adding up some numbers on a handy calculator that looked as if it had came through time from the eighties. Yong Soo was surprised to see the thing still up and working. What miracles the Energizer Bunny could perform.

"Although I admit that would be nice," Yong Soo conceded, "I actually need your ancient Chinese wisdom. I already tried Tao, but he's apparently all out of wisdom because it's past his bedtime."

"Like it's past yours?"

The wannabe-Korean rolled his eyes, silently snitching a fortune cookie. "Oh, _Appa_," he sarcastically joked. "Don't you want to hear your wonderful son's problems?"

The look on his face told him _no._ Yong Soo burst into his tale anyway. Through it all, Yao was silent, marking off this or that payment, and glaring holes into bills that apparently meant Yong Soo really wouldn't be getting that better allowance. Business was as unsurprisingly busy as ever, but still they were losing money. Red Flower was the best restaurant in town. Everyone loved Chinese food and Japanese (and now Russian?) sushi. So why were things starting to get so bad?

If things didn't start to look up….

Yao stretched before putting on a smile and patting his head. "Tao is right. You're just overreacting. Bong Chung is a nice girl. She wouldn't get mad at you. If she didn't like you, don't you think she would have done something about it?"

He was right about that. Bong Chung was quiet, but she was headstrong and steadfast in what she believed. She was sure to speak her mind. Still…

Though he was well aware Yong Soo had already eaten at least ten fortune cookies, Yao handed him another. "Kiku will come back home any second and undoubtedly start complaining. Do you really want to be awake for that?"

"But Katyusha gives him Oreos when he drives Ivan home," Yong Soo whined, leaning in on his father's shoulder. "If I'm awake, he might give me some!"

"The last thing we need is you hyped up on sugar," Yao said, lightly scooting out of reach before the hugging began. He wasn't fast enough, for Yong Soo's arms wrapped around him at lightning speed, crushing his insides. As if Ivan's bear hugs weren't already giving him internal damage, Yong Soo had to make sure he was pain even when the Russian wasn't present. But Yao had to be thankful his hands weren't-

Too late. "Stop that!" Yao screeched, ripping his hands away from his chest. "Bed! Now!"

"Fine, fine," Yong Soo sighed. "No fun at all, you are."

"And stop watching Star Wars with Alfred!"

Yong Soo crowed in triumph- Yao had gotten the reference! His mind-rotting techniques were finally working! Now, if only he and Bong Chung could trick him into speaking Korean…. His lips twitched a moment. He ducked away before Yao could see that his brilliant Chinese wisdom hadn't made an astounding impact.

What was he thinking, believing Bong Chung couldn't possibly be as perfect as she was? Kiku was _Japanese_. Yong Soo self-proclaimed himself to be Korean. Why would he dare listen to his smelly brother with that logic?

He paused a moment, bouncing on his bed. Tao was already lightly snoring, likely having convinced himself that their conversation was just a dream. He didn't have issues with _his _girlfriend. Why couldn't Kiku have made them America and Cuba or something? Then, Tao would be the one to wake him up in the middle of the night.

Perhaps Kiku secretly liked freaking him out. Yong Soo wouldn't put it past him. Kiku could be quite evil if he tried hard enough, and he was always politely telling Yong Soo to stop being so "rude". In Kiku-speak, that translated to "annoying and obnoxious". Tao also thought he was annoying.

_I think the only thing she doesn't like about you is how stupid you are._

He fell back on his bed, frowning up at the ceiling. Annoying, obnoxious, stupid. Yong Soo wasn't any of those things. He was Korean, so it was impossible for him to be those things!

…Right?

Yong Soo chewed his lip a moment in worry. Siblings usually said that kind of stuff, didn't they? Picked at each other, teased each other. Matthew, Michelle, and Monica didn't do that. Neither did Katyusha, Ivan, and Natalya. They all got along. But so did they, Yong Soo thought. Tao and Xiao Mei were always shopping together. Kiku played DDR and helped with school stuff. Yong Soo was the one who brought them all together. He always made sure they were happy and well-educated in Korean things!

He suddenly blinked. Kiku, Xiao Mei, and Tao acted like they could care less about Korean culture. His dad frequently told him to shut up and find a new hobby.

Maybe… he _was _annoying?

Yong Soo went over to Tao one more time, shaking his shoulder. "What do you _want?_" Tao angrily burst, glaring up at him. "I need sleep!"

"Am I annoying?" he asked. Tao was silent a moment. Yong Soo expectantly wrung his hands. _I am, and that's why Bong Chung isn't going to like me. Unless she already doesn't like me!_

Tao sighed, pulling the covers around him tighter. "Yes, but not in a bad way. You're like a puppy or something. Very hyperactive. And didn't you already pester Dad for this stuff?"

"He told me the same thing you said."

"Because I'm right, bro. The instant you figure that out, the better your life will be. Now," he said, snuggling back to a comfy position, "please go to sleep or bother Xiao Mei instead."

Yong Soo flung himself down to smush Tao in a hug. "Thanks. I still think you're dead wrong, but it's nice of you to lie anyway. Good night!"

"Wait, what? I wasn't ly-"

"GOOD NIGHT DAD, XIAO MEI, AND MOM!" he hollered at the top of his lungs. Yong Soo flopped down on his bed, crossing his arms behind his head. He ignored the frown Tao gave him and closed his eyes, mentally counting to one hundred in Korean, then in Chinese, and finally in English. He probably could have done the same in Japanese, but he was now convinced Kiku was the source of all his problems.

That was okay. He would be alright. Alfred and Bong Chung still liked him, so he wouldn't be completely alone.

He went to sleep with a frown on his face, thinking it was a smile.

**Translations**

**Spanish-**

_**Un perro muy mal- a very bad dog**_

_**Familia- family**_

**German-**

_**Halt die klappe- Shut up**_

**Korean-**

_**Naneun hangug al-ayo.- I know Korean.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**The **_**iepen**_** is called Spring Snow. It's a fancy name for elm seeds, which float from the trees and spin like propellers. Anyways, in Amsterdam, it's almost revered the same way Cherry Blossoms are loved in Japan.**

**That was in no way or form a hint of a spoiler, by the way.**

**And my goodness, how I love this chapter. Written in one day. Good Lord.**

**Chapter 6-**

The too-loud ticking of the bland clock kept him sitting on the edge of his seat, motionless. He supposed he should say something to the lovely couple across the table from him, but he found it difficult to lift his gaze away from his plate. They were strict vegetarians, so broccoli, beans, and other green stuffs were all over his plate. Instead of milk, like he used to drink at dinner, his foster parents had made him some green tea. They told him he would love it if he tried it. Well, he had tried it, and it tasted like grass.

"How was your day?" the woman kindly asked, lacing her fingers together, elbows on the table. He slightly looked up at that. His mother never put her elbows on the dining table. She used to tell him it was bad manners to do so.

"Alright," he answered, looking back to the mass of green. To appear polite, he took a small bite at the carrots. He hated carrots.

The man next spoke. "Was school any fun? Did you make any new friends?"

Any new friends? He didn't have old friends. The one friend he had ever had moved away five years ago. They hadn't talked in years. He shook his head. "May I be excu-"

"You haven't finished your plate, buddy," the woman interrupted. The boy turned his wide green eyes on her. He silently sat back down and forced some more broccoli down his throat.

_I hate it here. I hate both of you, and I _especially _hate all these veggies._

That was a lie. He didn't hate these two. He certainly didn't like them, but he was grateful they had at least pulled him out of foster care. The orphanage he had lived in those horrible two months after his parents' deaths had been a waking nightmare. None of the kids would talk to him, and the adults working there ignored him every chance they got. What was worse, they wouldn't let him write to anyone he did know. So, even though these two and their manners and their vegetables absolutely appalled him, he would learn to eventually get over it.

Hopefully.

He caught sight of the woman's smile as he unenthusiastically ate his dinner. She was nothing like his mother. She was a very short, very thin woman who wore tie-dye like it was going out of style. All of her pants were ripped jeans and she wore beads and feathers in her hair. Despite her absurd appearance, she had such a mundane name. He couldn't even remember it. Mary? Susan? It didn't even matter. The woman and her husband wanted him to call them "Mom" and "Dad".

His mom and dad were dead. He wasn't about to let these weirdoes take their place.

The eleven-year-old finished his plate, but didn't bother to do the same to his nasty tea. His mother also used to drink tea, but it tasted much better than this. Thanks to that and the coffee his father used to drink, the boy's house had always smelled wonderful.

This place smelled like grass and cigarettes.

After muttering his intentions to go to bed, he disappeared upstairs, mentally cursing the stupid orphanage who let him go with these freaks. When the two first popped up, they had looked like nice, respectable people. They told the agency they were unable to have children themselves, and thus were looking to adopt a child. Since he had just arrived, the social workers introduced the couple to him. They told him he was perfect. For a moment, the boy had almost been happy. These two would never take the place of the family he'd lost, but maybe they would be good foster parents nonetheless.

But once the papers had been signed and he had said goodbye to the orphanage staff, things suddenly changed. The woman took off her flowery blouse to reveal a cut off top. The man pulled out his cigarettes, making him choke on the stench.

He didn't change into his pajamas and pulled the covers up to his chin. The evening sun still shone brightly through his room's window, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to go to sleep and not wake up, if it meant staying here. He wanted to simply sleep forever.

The woman poked her head in the door, giving him a sad smile. "Things will get better, honey. I promise. Do you want another blanket?"

He tried his hardest to keep the glare off his face. Instead, he wearily shook his head. "I'm fine, thank you. Good night."

"Good night, Toris. Have sweet dreams."

((((()))))

When he opened his eyes, Toris sighed in relief to find himself in his present bedroom instead of the one from his dream.

Then, unbridled panic set in. He shot upright, a bolt of pain running up his spine. Toris hissed, clenching at the quilt over him. Feliks had locked him in the bedroom! Then the floor! It had fell through when Ludwig walked in, and he remembered Feliks's scream, and all the black-

"Toris? You're awake!"

He turned to the doorway. A smile unfurled on his face to see Eduard. The blonde sighed in relief. "You slept all day. Mom was about to have a panic attack, though Dr. Zwingli said you were fine. She drove you home last night."

"Dr. Zwingli? Why did they call her?"

"Lovino brought Lili along."

Toris gaped. "What? Lili? No, wait a minute. _Lovino?_ What was he doing at the house? Ludwig wouldn't have brought him-"

"Feliciano."

That made more sense. Toris nodded. He cast a glance at his alarm clock and almost had a panic attack himself. Five o'clock? He'd slept through school and missed that exam! "Calm down!" Eduard frantically burst. "Mom called the school and told them you came down with the flu."

He nodded again and took a deep breath. "Right. I'll have to thank her. What about Feliks?"

Nervously, Eduard nodded towards the door. "He's currently on our couch, trying to help Raivis with science."

"Good Lord."

Actually, Toris thought after a moment, Feliks wasn't too bad at science. It was the one subject he almost paid a little attention to. The real surprise was that Feliks would actually do something productive with Raivis, instead of trying to dress him up or convincing him to let Feliks do his hair. Toris worriedly bit his lip. Ignoring Eduard's chirps about taking it easy, Toris burst into the living room. "Feliks, are you okay?" he anxiously burst, taking him and Raivis by surprise.

In two seconds flat, Feliks had shoved Raivis's textbook at him and flung himself at Toris. "You're okay!" he laughed, swinging him in his suffocating hug. Toris winced at his back's painful protesting. Feliks released him in an instant and spewed a lengthy apology laced with exactly 1,273 "likes". Immediately after his apology, Feliks threw another crushing hug at him. "I swear I'll, like, never take you to a haunted house again, Liet!"

Toris finally pushed him off, holding his shoulders to keep him from hugging him again. "Pol. Hugging is painful. And don't worry about it. I'm alright, aren't I?"

Feliks blinked in confusion. "Uh, what do you mean, 'don't worry about it'? Liet, I just, like, made you fall through the floor of an abandoned house."

"Actually," he figured, "I think the floor issue was more of Ludwig's fault."

It was Toris's time to flinch in shock when Feliks unleashed a glare. "You should be kicking me out the door! Seriously, Liet! Why the heck aren't you steamed at me right now? I know you're totes nice and all, but I, like, _made you crash through a floor._"

Toris sighed. Feliks's glare only turned darker. What, did Feliks _want _him to punch him in the face or something? Of course Toris was a little peeved Feliks had locked him up. However, that was nothing compared to the _other _horrible situations they got into. Feliks had _laughed _when he almost caught Toris's hair on fire three years ago. And, like Toris had said, Ludwig had technically been the one to break the floor. It was a complete accident. Feliks hadn't meant to get him hurt.

Feliks wasn't buying it. Rolling his eyes, Toris moved on to the kitchen. He was too tired and hungry to stand around and argue with him. Feliks never listened to reason anyway. Sometimes Toris suspected Feliks hated the idea of rationality, and thus was so adamant about doing his own thing. "Can I get you some guys some hot cocoa?" Toris asked.

Raivis and Eduard shared a worried look, and Feliks continued to pout.

Toris decided to take that as a yes.

((((()))))

Alfred loved Final Fantasy XIII. Just _looking _at the amazing graphics had made him feel like he was in heaven. He knew what he was talking about, too, since he had sort of already been to heaven. Or something like heaven. Jeanne hadn't really specified that.

However, after playing the aforementioned beautiful game for well over two hours now, Kiku had called for a dinner break. Alfred wasn't paying attention to the fact that Kiku was not eating on account of gaping at his atrocious use of chop sticks. Kiku literally _cringed _when Alfred stabbed at a salmon roll. "Dude," he drawled, mouth full of food. Alfred also did not notice Kiku's face turning green. "Have I ever told you how awesome this sushi stuff is? And you can totally turn them into kebobs with these chop sticks!"

"ALFREEEEEEED!"

He turned just in time to catch a flying Korean. Yong Soo fist-pumped the air. "Alfred, I didn't know you were coming! I would have brought those comics you lent me."

Kiku sighed at the accusing scowl his brother sent him. "He ran away from home. Again."

"Dad found out I'm going to a military uni," Alfred explained, slurping up a noodle. "Dude, Kiku, you got any of those pocky thingies? Those are _epic_, man. Anyways, he was already in a bad mood after figuring out he gave me the directions to an abandoned house to give to Ludwig. By the way, any idea what the heck that was about? Feliks texted me and said we should start hanging out there."

Yong Soo slightly deflated. He hadn't gotten a text.

Alfred continued, animatedly gesturing with his free hand while the other kept shoveling in more food. "And I found Monica in my room this morning! I tell you, that kid is _creepy_. I don't care if she's Mattie's little sister, she is a creeper child. Way too similar to Francis."

"How did she get in your room?" Kiku asked, eyes wide. Alfred hopelessly shrugged, cheeks bulging from food. He swallowed and next turned to Yong Soo. "Anyway, you can hold on to the comics as long as you like, dude. I can bring the next issues of Teen Titans tomorrow if you want. Oh, and hey, either of you know Ivan's schedule this week? 'Cause I was thinking of kidnapping Natalya and driving her down to the beach."

Yong Soo gaped. "But she'll kill you! The beach is, like, eight hours away from here!"

Alfred shook his head. "No, not _that _kind of beach. There's this cool lake not too far from here that has a man-made beach on one side of it. It only takes three bucks for admission! That reminds me. I need to see if Yao will let me borrow some cash. I promise I'll work it all off this summer. Dad's being stingy and won't give me any gas money."

"He can't pay you anymore," Yong Soo found himself saying. Even Kiku was surprised at that. The boy plopped down on one of cushions in front of the TV. "When he was doing the bills last night, he said we were losing money for some reason. I blame these stupid American banks. If they were anything like _Korean_ banks, we wouldn't have this problem."

Kiku lowly hummed, frowning down at his untouched meal. After a moment, he uncertainly looked to Yong Soo. "You haven't been taking any change for the arcade, have you?"

Yong Soo froze. "What?" he asked slowly. "Kiku, I wouldn't take money like that, even if it was for the arcade. Not even to get something for Bong Chung! Unlike Alfred, I know how to manage my allowances."

"Yeah, Kiku," Alfred nodded. "He's honest and- wait a minute, what did you say?"

"You have teriyaki sauce smeared on your cheek," Yong Soo informed him, lithely hopping up and out of reach. A odd grin was on his face as Yong Soo bade them farewell, skipping out of the break room.

Kiku sighed, handing Alfred his food. He took it without complaint, promising to cook him lunch tomorrow. Kiku respectfully declined.

"Don't worry about him, Dude," Alfred suddenly said, taking Kiku by surprise. Alfred downed the bowl of rice in one go. "He's probably bummed you're graduating and stuff. Peter's coming to stay with us this summer for that very reason. Well, I think he's coming because he's gonna miss me. It might be that Achaius is bored and wants to get Dad angry. Point is, you've got more stuff to worry about right now. You're the one planning our awesome vacation, remember? Our final get-together before we head off to college."

Kiku wryly shook his head. "Remind me again, Alfred, when you decided you were going to act more seriously."

"Serious? Psh, I ain't serious," Alfred scoffed. "I'm just trying to pay off all my debts before I start anew. Giving you philosophical advice is repaying you for all the video games and free food."

Alfred's smile started to wilt. Kiku looked to the game controllers. "We still have two weeks," Kiku quietly said, giving Alfred a turn at fighting Galenth Dysley.

He solemnly unpaused the game.

"I know."

((((()))))

"He's late," Alice said at long last. She let out a defeated sigh, fixing her headband. "He said he'd meet us here at Oranjee. And he's _late._"

Sebastiaan frowned at his sister, trying her hardest to hide her sadness with anger. Alice had even dressed up for the occasion. The blue, flowey sundress had bought on her shopping spree last week, just for her dinner with Lars at Oranjee. She would never admit it to Sebastiaan, but she had been looking forward to this for weeks now.

It hadn't taken very long for the guilt to pile on her after that argument three years ago. What had possessed her to yell at Lars like that? He had left his beloved city to take her to America and raise her, getting a fake I.D. that said he was twenty-two instead of fifteen. Lars had always looked old, anyway, so it was fairly easy, getting people to believe him.

Three years ago, Lars and Alice had just arrived in Amsterdam and were going out to eat when they ran into Isabella.

While Lars didn't usually curse, he did when he came across a problem he couldn't fix. Alice remembered him muttering obscenities under his breath as he grabbed hold of her wrist. _We have to go. I'll take you by McDonald's. We'll walk around and see the _iepen_._

_But we've been in line here for half an hour, Lars. We can't just leave now._

_Lars?_

Isabella turned around, catching sight of the siblings. For a moment, she simply stared. Lars let out a frustrated breath, glaring down at Alice. Isabella mutely shook her head. _Lars?_ she breathless repeated, putting a hand on his cheek. _Is it really you?_

_Unfortunately._

Alice hadn't been too confused, at first. Lars was bound to know many people in Amsterdam. He had connections all over the city, getting them cheaper rooms in fancy hotels and discounts at lovely restaurants, such as the one they were in line for now. With as many friends as he had, surely he had to have some enemies as well. But Isabella was anything but hateful. She next turned to Alice, tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. _And you're Alice. You're _Alice_, my baby girl._

At this point, Alice knew Lars had a _lot _of explaining to do. Isabella insisted on eating dinner with them. She told Alice everything- how she was her mother, how she had "gotten into some trouble" and was forced to "move away". Alice had felt nothing but anger as her mother- her _mother_, whom Lars had never told her about!- explained everything. Isabella told her about Sebastiaan.

It was around that point that Alice snapped.

_I had a mother? I had another _brother_? You jerk! Why didn't you tell me my family was still alive? Why did you take me away from them? What the heck, Lars?_

_You were two years old. I wasn't about to let you get sent to child services because of her. A family friend took in Sebastiaan, and advised me to go to America-_

_Shut up! That's not the point, Lars! You never _told me_ about them! All these years, I thought my parents were dead! We could have visited Sebastiaan. You could have told me!_

She went home with Isabella that night. Alice and Isabella decided to find Sebastiaan, to rebuild the family that had crumbled so many years ago. They left Amsterdam without saying goodbye to Lars and moved to Brussels, Belgium. Alice went to college. There, she met a boy almost a carbon copy of Isabella named Sebastiaan.

Until now, at a lonely table with a stunning view the Turnhout street, it never occurred to Alice that Lars might have been right, keeping her in the dark. Isabella had been nothing but a picturesque mother for the past three years, but she had said she had gotten into some "bad business". Whatever that was, it had almost scattered her three children into foster care. Lars and this family friend- whom she now knew to be Sebastiaan's father- had found a way to protect the two, even if it meant splitting them up.

Alice looked around at the falling _iepen_, one of Lars's favorite sights. Watching the Spring Snow fall, she felt as if she once again had turned into the nagging, pathetic girl she had been three years ago. "Lovino and Lili had better be a happy couple," she muttered.

Sebastiaan blinked. "Huh? Who's Lovino and Lili?"

"Friends from America," she answered fondly, resting her chin on her palms. "Did you watch that famous court case three years ago? The one where a bunch of kids crashed a wedding to stop child abuse?"

Everyone, Sebastiaan was sure, had seen _that._ He nodded. "My father spent an entire afternoon cursing at the TV. It was the first time I had ever seen him so angry. But what about it?"

"Lovino was the boy's big brother. The one who beat up that Marco guy?" Alice couldn't help but chuckle at his gape. She fondly leaned back in her chair, smiling at the warm breeze. "Gosh, I miss him. Feliciano, too. He was the sweetest little boy."

"Feliciano…. Feliciano Vargas?"

She nodded.

"Well, darn," Sebastiaan groaned. He called over a nearby waiter and asked, "Do you have wi-fi here?" At the waiter's nod, Sebastiaan jumped up. "Just a moment, Alice. I'm afraid I've been a bit of an idiot. Your laptop's out in the car right?"

"Sebastiaan?" she called as he took off jogging. "Sebastiaan, wait a minute!" Exasperatedly, Alice fell back in her chair. "Apparently both of my brothers are crazy."

A low chuckle sounded behind her. Alice looked over her shoulder to see a tall man, long blonde hair hanging over his eyes. A pipe was stuck between his lips, and a striped scarf lay around his neck despite the summer heat. Green eyes seemed to smile along with his lips. "About time you paid some attention to me, Alice."

"Lars!" she burst, a laugh bubbling out of her throat. Alice nearly tripped, rising from her seat so suddenly. Lars steadied her. However, when she threw herself at him, he had to steady himself or risk falling in the floor of an expensive restaurant.

He wrapped an arm around her, smiling into her hair. "It's good to see you again, Alice. That was Sebastiaan, I suppose?"

She pulled away nodding, grin as wide as her mouth could allow. "Yeah, that's Sebastiaan." Alice sat back in her seat, dabbing at her eyes. She looked over her shoulder. In the restaurant's lamp lighting, she could barely see his form digging around in his banged up car. Shaking her head ruefully, she turned back to Lars. "What did you do to your hair?"

Lars fingered his long bangs and shrugged. "Lovino said the cowlick was stupid, didn't he? Plus, Amsterdam doesn't carry my hair gel. I have to wear it this way now. That's why I kept quiet. I wanted to see how long it would take you to recognize me."

"You're crazy."

He humbly shrugged.

"Alice, you have to go on Facebook and message Feliciano Vargas!" Sebastiaan burst upon reentering the patio area. He laid the laptop before her.

"Looks like I'm not the only crazy one," Lars noted. Sebastiaan blinked, turning towards him. In answer to his questioning expression, Lars held out his head. "Lars Johannes, formerly known as Lars van Houten. Pleasure to re-meet you, Sebastiaan."

Sebastiaan looked Alice, absolutely beaming, then back to Lars, looking as friendly as ever. As he shook his older brother's hand, he vaguely wondered if this was what his father meant by cherishing the moment.

He couldn't help himself from suddenly blurting, "You know him, right? My father?"

Lars nodded. "'Course I do. I know a lot of his family, too. Well, Alice," he said, looking back to her momentarily, "since you're not flipping out over Bast's dad, I take it you don't know who he is yet."

Alice and Sebastiaan both let out a "Huh?"

"Go ahead and talk to Feliciano. They should have found the picture I left them by now." Lars left his very confused siblings to pay their food bills, lightly tugging at the bangs he would never get used to.

Lars sighed, pausing a moment. Looking back at the stars, he wondered if he was doing the right thing, or simply sticking his nose where he shouldn't. However, with a sigh, he supposed it really wasn't his decision. Those brats in America could never keep to themselves, anyway.

((((()))))

Gilbert poked his head into the kitchen. Ludwig didn't look up from his diligent scrubbing. He would never understand how Ludwig could take so much initiative in his cleaning- especially in dishwashing. Gilbert had always found that chore to be the most repulsive. How could he stand sticking his hands in that dirty water with food bits floating all over the place? Just thinking about it made Gilbert sick.

He slapped himself to get him back on track. "Hey, Luddy?"

Ludwig flinched, dropping the plate he was scrubbing. Water splashed all over his front. "_Vati!_" he groaned, instantly setting to drying everything up. Gilbert rolled his eyes. Ludwig was OCD. That was the only explanation he could find.

"Anyway, while you fuss over that, mind if I ask you something?"

Gilbert noticed him falter a moment in his frantic drying. However, he was right back at it so quickly that Gilbert wondered if it had been his imagination. He shook his head. "The Luddy-Mobile's getting pretty banged up, right? It sounds like something dying when the engine starts. How about you skip school next Monday and we'll fix it up? I've ordered all the new parts, and they should be in this weekend."

"I can't go skipping days like this," Ludwig told him pointedly. "I'm graduating, remember?"

"But it'll be the awesomest Senior Skip Day ever!" Gilbert whined. "Besides, you gotta get out and live a little!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. He had done all the living that needed to be lived last night. He had the aching back to prove it, too.

Gilbert threw an arm around his neck, and Ludwig tried his hardest not to wince or call out in pain. "I'm turning off your alarm clock," he swore. "You're going to be awesome and sleep in on a Monday, then we're going to fix your van so you guys can go on your awesome adventure and not worry about breaking down beside the road!"

"That 'awesome adventure' was supposed to remain a secret. Alfred told you all about it, I presume?"

"Yeppers. Saw him and Samantha the other day, and he spilled the beans. Samantha will be coming along to stalk you guys, by the way. It's the only way Artie will let Alfred go. But don't worry, she has the official Awesome Seal of Approval, so it won't be so bad," he explained, herding Ludwig away from his mess and the dishes. He sat him down on the couch and plopped down next to him. "And now, we're going to watch a movie. We'll flip through the channels and find something awesome with lots of blood and gore. That's what can cure your sissy cleaning ways!"

Gilbert let out a boisterous maniacal laugh. He caught Ludwig's smile and hugged his knees to his chest. A dim pain poked at his side, but Gilbert blamed it as an unawesome side-affect of growing old. Stupid aches and pains. He was barely forty, but didn't look a day over twenty-five! Take _that_, Laws of Nature!

He cracked a grin, remembering how Francis once said they would always be sexy, no matter how old they became. He was certainly right, just like Brandon said-

"_Vati?_" Ludwig curiously asked. Gilbert forced the smile back on his face. Francis had also been right about last night. Twenty five years was a long time for someone to be missing. And with that letter….

"I'll be right back," Gilbert airily promising, getting up. His legs moved him upstairs to his room, over to the closet. His arms reached past the clutter and junk to find the box.

It wasn't dusty.

He stared at it a moment, a bit in shock, a bit numbed. Why weren't they coated in a thick layer of crusty oldness? These tapes hadn't been touched in twenty five years. Gilbert was sure he hadn't even thought of them until now.

There was no way he could watch them. Not now. Not… not ever. Not until Brandon came back. Because… he was just lost in Germany. He didn't… have a way to call Gilbert, to tell him he was fine and living it up in Berlin. Brandon wasn't….

Gilbert's entire body jerked as he felt something violently stab at his side. He dropped the box, stumbling over to hit the side of the bed. All at once, he felt sick to his stomach, freezing, and feverish. Just as soon as it had come, the pain jerked to a stop, and Gilbert let out a shuddering breath.

"_Vati? _Are you okay?" Ludwig called, muting the TV.

He flickered crimson eyes to the door, wide and terrified. One thought played in his head, repeating on a loop. _Can't let Luddy know. Can't let Helda know. Can't let _anyone _know._

Gilbert picked himself off the floor, hand tight on his side. All sorts of guts were on that side. He mentally cursed himself for not paying attention in Anatomy. Well, he _had_, but not at the parts that now seemed important. "I'm fine!" he convincingly hollered back. "My awesomeness merely blinked out for a moment, causing me to trip. But all is righted in the Awesome Universe, so don't fear!"

He took several shaking breaths, trying to get his heart beating the speed it should. Gilbert caught sight of himself in the mirror over the dresser.

It was Brandon looking back at him.

Covering his face with his hands, he slid back to the floor. His memories lay scattered around him, each one sending a smiling face, a laugh, a conspiratorial glance to his mind. The adventures of Big Awesome, Mini-Awesome, Francis, and Antonio pelted him, each and every happy moment biting into him. Every time he saw Roderich at the wrong end of a prank, every time Elizabeta and Arthur starting shouting at them. He felt so heavy, and his tears did nothing to alleviate it.

He was sure now. He was sure he would never see Brandon again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Julio Miguel Chavez- MEXICO!**

**I must apologize for the butchered Spanish. I know I didn't conjugate half of it correctly, since I can't remember the Conditional tenses at all…. *grumble grumble* My Spanish teacher would flay me if she read this.**

**I'm also sorry for not replying back to anyone, because life decided to get hectic very quickly. However, all's well now!**

**Chapter 7-**

_A rich quilt was pulled into view, unintelligible muttering in the background. "Bloody thing, can't figure-" The camcorder was turned to face a young Arthur Kirkland's face, comically large eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He blinked, realizing the camcorder was now recording. He cleared his throat._

"_Francis came up with this stupid idea- this mess of recording ourselves to watch when we're older? Complete waste of time, if you ask me. But now, since we've got nothing else to do, I might as well join in. Gilbert and Francis have already made their last video, I'm sure. If not yet, then soon. Those bloody sods are nothing but sentimental."_

_Arthur paused a moment, mulling over his next words. He reached out and settled the camcorder farther away from him, propped up a cardboard box. The fine dress shirt and dress pants he wore came into view. Arthur tugged on his tie and unbuttoned the top few. Slowly, he began. "I suppose I should start this with a bit of explanation. The date is September 17, 1987. I just came back from your funeral, Brandon. Of course, we didn't have a body to bury, so your father merely put the remainder of your belongings into a casket and put that six feet under. Gilbert didn't even show. I haven't seen him since you sent that letter."_

_He took a moment to look around the room, trying his best to remain nonchalant despite the reddening of his eyes. "Do you know just what you did, Brandon? Gilbert and Elizabeta got into an argument. She's been avoiding all of us since. Antonio got his nose broken. Francis and Samantha haven't bothered me all week. I could care less about all of it, but I thought you should know that you hurt Gilbert. You hurt all of us. But what I really wanted to tell you is-"_

_Arthur was cut off by the sound of his bedroom door slamming open. "Talking to ye self again, Artie?" Achaius crowed, instantly bringing a feral scowl to Arthur's face._

"_Sod off!" he barked. "Can't you leave me alone for just a moment?"_

_Oddly enough, Achaius didn't immediately respond. He walked over to the camcorder, ignoring the protesting slaps to his arm. "Ye took Ansel's camcorder? Why'd ye do that?"_

"_None of your bloody business!" Arthur shrieked, shoving him away._

_Achaius backed out of the camcorder's view. "Fine! Calm ye self down, Artie! I'm goin'!"_

_Arthur continued glaring after him until the door was slammed shut once more. He let out a heavy exhale, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Hate him. Oh, how I hate him."_

_He peeked back to the camcorder, a weary frown on his face. "I hope you're bothering to look at the aftermath, Brandon. For Gilbert, you changed everything. For me… nothing much has changed. My brothers are just as insufferable as they always were. No… that's not the complete truth. They seem so much worse now. I had almost gotten used to seeing you and Gilbert together. Now that you're not here, I realize I was wrong to think my family could possibly get along with each other. You were the one I hid behind, Brandon. I looked at you, and I forgot about our arguments here."_

_Speaking of arguments, Aìlin's snarls reverberated through the walls. Aldwin's words flew back at her. "Would you two shut up?" Arthur yelled, rubbing his forehead._

_Both screamed back at him to shut _his _mouth._

_Arthur forced himself to do as he was told. With viridian eyes now turned completely red, he spat out, "I cannot believe you, Brandon. I thought you were someone to be looked up to. I had fallen into the same trap Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio had. For a while, I honestly thought you would make something of yourself and correct everything wrong in us. But you made it worse. I thought of you as the only bloody brother that cared about me, and you went and left us. You bloody coward! I don't know if that was a suicide letter or what, but if you are still out there like Gilbert stupidly thinks, I hope I see you again so I can punch you in the face. If you are dead, I hope you're stuck down here to watch us fall apart. I sincerely hope that, Brandon."_

_He wiped at his eyes and reached out to turn off the camcorder._

((((()))))

Natalya hated Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. On these days, she was forced to don the most outrageous work uniform and stand behind a cash register for five hours. She supposed it could be worse- she could be working six days a week like Alfred- but it was horrendous enough.

She wiped the hateful expression off her face and lifelessly greeted the next customer. "Welcome to McDonalds. May I take your order?"

Yes. She _hated _McDonalds. Just thinking of all the grease under one roof nauseated her. Natalya had to wear her hair up in a ponytail, despite working at the cash register and not with the chemicals this restaurant called food. It was always too stuffy behind the counter, and Alfred was usually too busy to talk to her, since he had become Assistant Manager.

Assistant Manager. In barely one year, Alfred Kirkland had become Assistant Manager of Heta's McDonalds. If it wasn't McDonalds, Natalya would have died laughing. However, seeing as it was America's favorite fast-food restaurant, she could only roll her eyes and wonder why he wasn't the main manager yet.

Natalya knew she shouldn't have let Alfred find her a job. She knew she shouldn't have felt bad for not pulling her weight at home! Katyusha had her school councilor salary, and Ivan waited on tables at Red Flower. Being forced to stay at home with Katyusha had annoyed her to no end- especially when Katyusha sobbed through her seven o'clock soap operas. Finally, she made the worst mistake she could have ever made: she went to Alfred and asked him for help.

Now she worked at McDonalds.

She was going to slit Alfred's throat.

"Have a good day," she blandly told the customer, handing him his tray. The man cast her a strange look. That was probably because of her _I-hate-this-place _attitude. Natalya could truly care less. She did her job, so no one could say anything against her. Nonchalantly, Natalya checked the time on her old watch. Katyusha had found it at a yard sale for her, thinking she would love it. At least it served its purpose.

Two hours to go. How on earth had she lasted three hours already? In thirty minutes, she would take her lunch. Alfred would also conveniently take his lunch. Natalya would then be subjected to watching him scarf down three Big Macs, drink two mocha frappes, and finish off his meal with a dipped vanilla cone. Natalya usually just ate his offered cone, despite that making her feel as if she had just gained three pounds. Eating anything in the general vicinity of McDonalds gave her that impression.

"_Hola. Quiero un numero dos y un té helado grande, por favor._"

Natalya blinked. The young man before her, about seventeen or eighteen nervously frowned. "_No sabes español? Puedo hablar a alguien que me comprende?_"

"Um," she began, tossing a searching glance over her shoulder for Alfred, who conveniently was not present, "I don't speak Spanish. I'm sorry, sir."

The boy deflated, shaking his head ruefully. "_Nunca debí haber ido a América con mi primo. Este lugar es el peor._"

"DO NOT DISRESPECT THIS AWESOME COUNTRY!"

Natalya flinched as Alfred zoomed up to the counter, slamming his hands down beside her. In an instant, every bit of his anger dissipated. "Oh, Julio. Hey, man! _Como estás?_"

Of course they would know each other. Natalya moved aside to allow Alfred, who thankfully knew Spanish and French as well as he knew English, to take Julio's order.

Natalya couldn't make sense of their conversation, but "Cuba", "Matthew", and "Raymón" seemed to pop up often. Julio must have been someone Alfred met on his trip. As Alfred pranced back to the kitchens to personally get his order, Natalya heard Julio snicker. "Geez, he's an idiot," he said in perfect English. "My cousin told me to speak only Spanish around him, so we could see how long it takes for him to get annoyed. So far, he's lasted three days."

Even better. Julio was just as annoying as Alfred. Natalya rolled her eyes. "As long as he thinks you truly know only Spanish, he won't be irritated. In fact, I think he enjoys showing off."

Julio cocked an eyebrow, leaning on the counter. The tanned boy put on a smooth smile. "You seem to know him well, Ms. Natalya. Your name is on your name tag," he informed her when she fearfully started back. Natalya mentally cursed the stupid thing. She did not want random strangers to know her name! Julio leaned in closer, in turn making Natalya tilt farther away from him. "You're also very _bonita_."

Natalya narrowed her eyes. Julio blinked in surprise, slightly backing off. However, he popped the charming smile back on his face, reaching out his hand to brush against her fingers. "_Puedo te conduzco a tu hogar, Querida?_"

Right as Julio was about to take her hand, Alfred materialized in front of her, holding a bag and a large cup. A plastic smile was on his face as he politely said, "Thank you very much. _Adios_, Julio."

Sensing he was treading dangerous territory, Julio returned the farewell in cheerful, oblivious Spanish and spun away. Alfred stood at her side, silently fuming, until he watched Julio walked out the door. Then, he let out a groan. "I don't know what it is about that dude, but he just rubs me the wrong way. Gets my spidey senses going. Anyway, don't be afraid to hide if he comes back. Julio is a weirdo."

Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe it was possible for Alfred to have an irrational dislike of someone he knew he could help. A flaw to his hero complex, she supposed? Regardless of what it was, Natalya shoved him away with a threat and a declaration of hatred towards him. He took it with a smile.

Alfred was an idiot, as Julio said, but Natalya didn't mind. She liked the butterflies that flew around in her stomach when he was near. He would never intentionally harm anyone else- unless it was according to his hero complex to do so- yet Natalya couldn't feel safer with him around.

Not that she would ever tell him that.

((((()))))

Arthur sat quietly, rereading the well-worn pages of _A Tale of Two Cities_. After Alfred had stormed off yesterday, he had decided to spend the night with Samantha, giving Arthur time to cool off. He was already on his fifth novel. He had just finished drinking his twenty-seventh cup of tea.

Honestly, he was quite astounded none of his delightful neighbors (read: Francis) had stopped by to pay him a visit. Not that he minded the peace and quiet, of course. It was just odd. Everyone had been acting strange as of late. Arthur knew why, and it only made him want to lose himself into a few more novels.

They had found out about Brandon. Arthur had been surprised when Matthew, Michelle, and the Braginski's hadn't asked about him three years ago, when his mother nearly blabbed the entire story. Leave it to a Kirkland to ruin everything. But somehow, one of them had found out, three years later. Now half of Heta would be involved in something Arthur wished would never come back.

He was prepared to face whoever came to him for answers Gilbert couldn't, and Francis and Antonio wouldn't, give.

What Arthur hadn't expected was for Monica and Therese to be the first to come.

Arthur hadn't gotten very far into Charles Dickens's story when the soft knock on the door came. Monica was already smiling up at him before he could even mark his place. "Monica!" Therese admonished, giving a quick apology to Arthur. "I told you, we have to wait to be let in!"

"It's alright," he said, patting Monica's head with a grin of his own. "What can I do for you? Oh, would either of you like a scone? I just finished baking some just a while ago. You two have a seat and I'll bring them out."

Monica's expression turned stony. She looked up with a grim determination in her blue eyes. "If I eat yucky scone, will you be happy?"

"E-excuse me?" he blinked. Therese sighed, setting her up on her lap. Arthur decided against the snacks. And his scones certainly were not "yucky". Monica must have been a picky eater, like Francis! Nevertheless, Arthur tried his best to not look bothered by the two-year-old. "You don't need to worry, Monica. I'm quite alright."

She stubbornly shook her head, despite Therese's best efforts to make her act more polite. "You and Papa and everyone all sad!" Monica burst. She put on her best frown, which slammed unbridled guilt into Arthur- something he hadn't felt in a long while. He remembered now how sour it tasted.

Arthur took a seat across from them, trying his best and failing to keep the grimace off his face. Therese worried bit her lip. "Francis has been acting… different," she said slowly. "I guess you know why?"

Of course. He had witnessed it all first hand. He perfectly remembered the last night any of them had seen Brandon- the night Gilbert decided to egg his house. They had ran away to a certain decrepit house, thinking Arthur didn't know where it was. It was where he usually ran away to, when one of his brothers or sister got on his nerves. But, even through all that anger, he knew he couldn't ruin their goodbye. He was actually a little angry they hadn't invited him to the party.

No one witnessed Brandon getting on his plane, since everyone was busy nursing a massive hangover, no doubt. Arthur had awoken bright and early that morning with a feeling that everything would change. Without Brandon, things were going to get much crazier. It had taken a while for Arthur to realize that he kept everyone under control and out of trouble. Elizabeta would have murdered Gilbert in his sleep long ago had that not been the case.

Then, that letter. The simple piece of paper, written in Brandon's scrawled, messy script, ripped any ounce of peace they had. Everyone seemed to fall apart. True colors ran wild across every inch of town, painting a dozen stories of misery to commemorate the loss of one heck of a man. Gilbert was crazy in his denial. Francis was simply a broken, pathetic mess. If it hadn't had been for Arthur and Samantha teaming up to bring them a less painful, slightly happier misery, they probably would have drown in themselves.

Little by little, with a silent promise made by each to never remember Brandon, they patched up the pieces. Arthur made the stupid mistake of falling for Samantha, and Francis went to the city of his dreams to meet the woman who hadn't been in his dreams, but quickly replaced the girl that had. Roderich, at the age of nineteen, went on his first world tour. He became a millionaire over the course of four months.

Arthur figured that maybe, just maybe, they didn't need Brandon after all.

Twenty five years later and he was willing to smack his past self for daring to consider such a thing.

Monica, during his hushed account, had managed to fall asleep on her mother's shoulder. Therese sat silently, staring at the floor. A lengthy paused weighted down by the years passed between them. Therese spoke. "I can't blame him for not telling me, I guess. It was almost the same with James and I. James was Michelle's father. He was my whole world when I was sixteen. I absolutely adored that boy. But I was an idiot, and he left before I even realized how stupid I was. I never saw him again, even after Michelle was born. I didn't want to see him. Honestly, I think I may have ripped his head off if we met. After all these years, though…."

"You didn't want to forget," Arthur softly finished. Just like Gilbert and Elizabeta, just like Arthur and Samantha. He knew full well how difficult it was to try and overlook someone so significant to you. Trying to forget Brandon had made him hate his brothers more than ever before. Growing up and getting wiser hadn't changed that very much. Arthur was positive his family would be just as deplorable to him until the day he died. And if he had to spend eternity with them….

He shuddered at the thought.

Therese grimly nodded, combing through Monica's golden hair. The girl remained locked away in her peaceful dreams. "That's why I named her Jeanne. I knew Francis still loved her, like I still loved James. But Arthur, don't you think there may actually be a little hope it had all been a mistake?"

Deep down, Arthur really did believe it had been some morbid attempt at a joke. But after so long, and hearing no word…. "There might have been hope in 1987, but there certainly isn't any now."

Therese smiled to him anyway, and thanked him for his time. As he followed her out, giving her some scones for a snack later, he could almost feel a bubbling light in him once again.

Perhaps that hope hadn't died after all.

((((()))))

"Oh, come on! I told the girl I was sorry!"

"Get some pants on," Nikolaus blandly told him, slamming his car door shut. The engine started, and Emil's brother was out of the parking lot and down the street in mere seconds.

Abel, who really was in his underwear, merely sighed. Emil once again wished he had taken up Tino's offer to stay with him and Berwald for a while. He looked away from Abel, now in an overly-obnoxious state only more beer (for Emil was pretty sure he was already a little drunk) could cure. If he could disown his brothers, Emil would be a happy man. However, they were paying the rent, and Emil wasn't exactly made of money.

A car passed them on the street. Upon seeing the driver's mouth drop open in a gape, Emil embarrassedly covered his face with one hand. "Abel, please. Can we go inside now? Everyone can see you out here, and you're wearing boxers with Copenhagan beers all over it."

"So? They're awesome! Besides, I don't think Nikolaus took a key with him, so I have to wait out here until he comes back."

Emil wanted to take the key to their apartment for himself and leave him outside waiting on a brother that was likely on his way to Tino and Berwald's house. However, he knew he couldn't just leave his intoxicated and likely insane brother outside to frighten the townspeople. "He has a spare," Emil assured him, grabbing his wrist. Abel allowed himself to be dragged upstairs. He opted out on the offered pants, however.

Abel downed a chilled beer and wiped his mouth with the table cloth. "I don't see why Nikolaus ran off like that, though. I mean, I only wanted to show his lady friend my axe collection."

"You did so while half-naked and tried to coerce her into making out with you. Not mention you did this after following them to their date at the park," Emil reminded him. He grabbed the newspaper and commenced to hide himself away.

Since Abel hated silence, he turned the TV on full blast. Emil winced and moved on to his room. Abel also hated being alone, so he barged in and jumped on Emil's bed, making the bed collapse under him.

Years of this behavior had made Emil very patient. After all, he and Nikolaus had been charged as Abel's babysitters. It was not a fun job, as one would expect. But now that Nikolaus was gone, Emil wanted nothing more than for Abel to get out of his hair.

His eyes went wide as a wonderful idea occurred to him.

Nikolaus had taken the car. However, since Nikolaus and Abel usually had to work at the same time, they had a second vehicle.

Emil kindly directed Abel to the kitchen. "He'll be back soon," Emil assured him. "How about a sandwich?"

"You're awesome."

Yes. Yes he was.

He almost couldn't hold the evil laugh as he opened the refrigerator and feigned surprise. "Whoops. Looks like we're out of cheese. I'll go get some at the store, okay?"

And Abel gave his okay.

The chrome was scorching to the touch, so Emil paid great care not to touch it. He paused a moment, sitting down on the leather. This was the first time he had ever dared to touch the motorcycle without Nikolaus or Abel accompanying him. Despite their oddities, they were still very protective brothers. If Abel realized through his stupor that Emil was about to ride the dangerous motorcycle, Emil would no doubt be locked in his room for the rest of the month.

He wasted no time in starting the engine. An almost childlike glee came over him, cutting off his conscience's admonition. What did it matter if Tino, Berwald, and Nikolaus would kill him when he got there? He was on the _motorcycle_!

Emil let out a laugh as he tore down the street, hair whipping around his face. Why hadn't he done this earlier? Tino was the soft-spoken chicken of the bunch. Well, unless he got angry. He was scarier than Berwald when mad.

_Hmm. Maybe I should have taken his Christmas gifts into consideration before I stole the bike. He's going to put me on the naughty list for the rest of my life. Oh, well._

Though the thrill hadn't died down in the least, Emil had the decency to eventually keep his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized as Abel's brother by the way he disturbed the peace. Not that this town was very peaceful in the first place. Emil had had a bad feeling about the place the instant they arrived. The wedding crashing, family issues, and stabbings that occurred all in rapid succession hadn't done anything to make him think better of his new home.

Three years of less tragic minor incidents had softened him up a bit, but Emil always had a fear something would soon pop up to bring it all crashing down.

He had no idea the end would begin when he ran into a mailbox. Emil was flung off the motorcycle into a yard, rolling to a stop right at a very stunned Ivan Braginski's feet and clueless Grigori's paws. For a moment, Emil lay there, body stinging with scrapes. He fearfully looked up at Ivan, who gaped. Next, he flopped his head up to see the front of Nikolaus's bike smashed into a broken mailbox pole. Wood chips and badly dented metal stormed into his mind, making his head pound with shame and fear.

With a huff, he dropped his head back to the ground. "They're going to kill me."

Ivan worried knelt down, petting his dog as he checked out Emil. "I think I'm okay," Emil said at last, feeling extremely awkward. Besides the awkwardness, he also felt… fuzzy. The clouds were rearranging themselves in his whirled vision, causing that headache of his to explode into a migraine of epic proportions. Emil squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the darkness would convince his brain to start working properly again.

"Are you sure?" Ivan asked doubtfully at his moan. He slid his arms under Emil's shoulders and knees, making the boy snap his eyes wide open. Ivan whistled after Grigori to follow him as he carried Emil effortlessly back inside his home. "_Sestra_? I have a little problem."

**Translation**

**Spanish-**

_**Hola. Quiero un numero dos y un té helado grande, por favor.- Hi. I'd like a number two and a large sweet tea, please.**_

_**No sabes español? Puedo hablar a alguien que me comprende?- You don't know Spanish? Can I speak to someone who understands me?**_

_**Nunca debí haber ido a América con mi primo. Este lugar es el peor.- I never should have gone to America with my cousin. This place is the worst.**_

_**Como estás?- How are you?**_

_**Bonita- pretty**_

_**Puedo te conduzco a tu hogar, Querida?- Can I drive you home, Love?**_

_**Adios- Goodbye**_


	8. Chapter 8

**If anyone from Alleluia remembers me ranting about these backstories I was going to write for the adults, this flashback was in Elizabeta's story, which tragically was lost when my previous flashdrive kind of got obliterated back in March. Anyway, thought I'd mention it to prove I really was going to go through with the idea, but alas...**

**XD Enjoy your chapter!**

**Chapter 8-**

_In a brightly lit hospital room stood Elizabeta and Roderich beside Gilbert, half-dazed on a bed. "And we're rolling," Brandon announced. Gilbert slightly stirred at the voice, giving him a hazy thumbs up. "How does to feel to have no appendix, Mini-Awesome?"_

"_Very awesome," Gilbert slurred, eyes sliding shut. He refused to succumb to unconsciousness, flopping his head over to face Elizabeta and Roderich. "Hey, Roddy? I'm thirsty."_

_Sixteen-year-old Roderich rolled his eyes. "Wonderful to know. However, since you did just get out of surgery, I suppose I'll be nice this one time."_

"_You're awesome, Roddy!" he weakly hollered as Roderich left the room._

_Elizabeta ruefully smiled, combing through his hair. Brandon turned the camcorder on him to give a sweet smile. "Oh, Gilbert's gonna love to hear he was too doped to remember this." He swung the camcorder back to a wide-eyed Elizabeta, whose hands were now firmly rested in her lap. "Don't mind me, Lizzy. I'm just loving the moment."_

_She scoffed. "You're just a bad brother, laughing at him like this."_

"_He teased me when I broke my leg last year, so I get to tease him now. Besides, how likely is it that we're actually going to watch these things anyway? My theory is that none of us will watch them, but some random kids we don't know yet. Like… Miss Maria Beilschmit. Oh, by the way, that's what my sister's name was supposed to be. But then Maria turned out to be a Gilbert…-"_

_Gilbert indignantly snapped his head up. "Hey," he whined, "are you calling me a girl?"_

"_Not at all," Brandon sweetly assured him. "Go back to La La Land, Mini-Awesome_._"_

_Gilbert did so, dropping his head back on his pillow. Brandon sadly chuckled. "If only he was this quiet all the time. But you know what, Lizzy? He's really going to be angry when he wakes up."_

"_Why?" she asked._

_Brandon fingered her hair, cascading in rich ripples down her back. "When's the last time you wore your hair down in public? And on picture day, to beat it all. Gilbert was already upset this morning he had to miss it. To also miss you embrace your female side for once? He'll be livid. I'm pre-warning you of the awkwardness when Gilbert finally clears his head."_

_Elizabeta ducked her head to hide the blush hiding there. Roderich walked back in with a water bottle. Gilbert perked up in an instant, childishly demanding, "You got a bendy straw, right? 'Cause bendy straws are awesome. Ooh, know what else is awesome? Gilbird. Hey, Big-Awesome, can we spray paint Gilbird _neon _yellow? Maybe he'd glow in the dark."_

"_I'm sure he would," Brandon good-naturedly agreed. "Well, folks of the future, this is Brandon Beilschmit reporting the time Gilbert's awesomeness blinked out for almost an entire day. Scientists, right now, are puzzled over the sudden tilt of the world's axis and how there is a strange and frightening air across every nation. You'll be reading this in your history books, kiddos! Any meaningful last words, Mini-Awesome?"_

_Gilbert blinked, still dazedly playing with his bendy straw. Roderich was pitifully shaking his head, muttering how he shouldn't have been _that _nice. "Bendy straws are awesome."_

"_That they are."_

((((()))))

"Hey, that's looking good! You're almost keeping everything in the lines!"

A young Emil looked up with a proud smile, kindly shoving his picture in Tino's face. His older brother took it, momentarily interrupting Abel and Nikolaus's conversation to show it off. The boy bashfully grinned at all the compliments. Once the kid's menu was back in his possession, he continued scribbling away. The back of the menu was blank, so once he finished coloring the front, he had gone crazy with the four tiny crayons he'd been given. Although the stick figures hardly looked like his family at all, Emil was proud of his hard work none the less. He and his brothers stood in the middle of the picture, all happy. Mom and Dad stood off in the corner, smiling back at them.

When his father came back from paying the bill, he patted Emil's head with his large hand. "That looks wonderful. Want to finish it up at home?"

It was already finished, but he wanted to take it with him anyway. Abel would be leaving soon, and he would miss his brother. Then, Berwald would also go, and Nikolaus and Tino…. Emil was a little sad, knowing this dinner was going to be the last they would all share for a long time.

Tino took his hand as the exited the bistro. Abel was as loud as ever, talking to their father. Mr. Vainamoinen was such a tall man- much bigger than seven-year-old Emil. He was a strong man, too. Emil's father was a firefighter, saving lives and rescuing kitties from park trees. They always joked about the cats. Emil suspected they ran away because all the old ladies in New York loved them too much. Sure it was nice to be loved, but too much would make anyone want to run away. For this reason Emil was glad his parents were always away. He didn't want them to love him so much that he'd run away and hide in a tree.

"Who's that on the back?" Tino asked, looking down at his picture.

Emil held it up for him to take. With his free hand, he pointed to the figure holding a little dog. "That's you," he explained, "because you like walking Mr. Harris's dogs. Over here is Berwald, that's Abel and Nikolaus poking at each other, and that's me, in front of you guys. Mom and Dad are up there."

He nodded. "That's very g-"

"Hands up!"

Whipping his head around, Emil faced a man with greasy hair. The man's face was dirty, and his clothes were shabby and mismatched. Angry dark, slanted eyes glared at them. He frowned, wondering what this strange guy wanted with them. Surely they hadn't disturbed him somehow?

His father suddenly stepped in front of them. Nikolaus lifted Emil up in his arms, apprehensive fear on his normally bland face. "Niko," he worriedly asked, craning his neck to look at the man, saying mean things to his father. "What's going on?"

A loud bang reverberated in his ears. Nikolaus screamed, everyone else screamed. Emil looked over Nikolaus's shoulder to see his father laying on the ground, hand over his chest. The shabby man must have thrown red juice on him. But what had made that noise? Before Abel could tackle into the man, another loud bang cracked through the air. His mother fell next, with a strangled gasp. The man ducked down and grabbed her purse. "You can't do that!" Emil shouted, eyes wide. "Give that back! That's Mama's purse!"

Nikolaus choked on a sob, dropping his face onto Emil's shoulder. The boy flinched when his shoulder quickly got wet. That couldn't be right. Nikolaus never cried! What was going on here? Why weren't his Mama and Papa sitting up? Why was the man running away, holding a _gun? _Guns were bad things- his mother had told him so. When people had guns, other people died-

He quickly fell silent.

That wasn't red juice. Nikolaus had a very good reason to be crying. Tino was shouting, begging Berwald to let him go back. Though he didn't want to look back at that, Emil knew they should be waiting on Abel. They couldn't leave him. They couldn't! "Abel!" he called, trying his best to be as strong as his father and not cry like his brother. It was hard to do it. "Niko, we have to wait on Abel!"

"Abel's there?" Nikolaus choked out, looking over his shoulder. He didn't slow his frantic pace. "Berwald! Abel isn't coming!"

Berwald didn't seem to be able to hear over Tino's frenzied shouting. Emil squeezed his eyes shut, just wishing everything would be quiet. What use was there in calling for Mom and Dad? They weren't moving. They wouldn't be following them home. He wrapped his arms around Nikolaus's neck, biting hard on his lip to keep from crying. If Abel wasn't coming back, Emil decided he would be the new strong one. He may have been a little kid, but he would take care of his brothers, like they took care of him. One day he'd grow up, and he'd keep everyone safe!

But first, he supposed it would be best to wake up.

Emil felt stiff as he blinked his eyes open, unaware he had fallen unconscious. The bed he lay on was unrecognizable, as was the strange room. He carefully flexed his legs and arms. The action hurt, but not enough to signal any broken bones. He let out a relieved breath. At least he wouldn't be making Abel and Nikolaus pay for any casts.

However, he felt like he should get his head checked out. It still pounding, flashing his dream back to his mind. Emil forcibly pushed it out of his head. The last thing he needed was to remember _that._ He slowly swung his legs over the bed, holding his head. He vaguely remembered Ivan carrying him somewhere- maybe this was his house? Emil frowned, worriedly peeking out the door. The hallway, like the bedroom, was quiet and peaceful. There was no sign anywhere that a psychopathic Russian lived here. He decided to keep his guard up anyway as he stood, feeling tons of bandaids stretch. He pulled up his pant leg to see he indeed was bandaged to high heaven. He could barely see any skin under all the tan bandages!

Emil shook his legs, trying to assess the damage. He wasn't in that much pain, so half of the bandaids were completely unnecessary. Katyusha must have been at blame for that.

Taking shaky, clumsy steps, he finally made it downstairs. Katyusha sat at the dining table, scribbling something down on a notepad. She occasionally hummed into the phone, absently nodding. Emil dumbly stood in the doorway. All of this was incredibly awkward. Should he thank her? He didn't want to interrupt her, and he certainly didn't want to sit on the couch and wait to be noticed.

A hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, making Emil flinch. "Are you okay?" Ivan Braginski asked, slightly frowning in concern. Emil slid away from his touch and nodded. He slightly swayed on his feet. Ivan grabbed his shoulders before he could topple over. "You're not okay. Here, sit on the couch, and I'll try and call for someone."

"Don't do that," he quickly said. At Ivan's stare, he nervously looked away. "Um. I'll call. Later."

A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Did I demolish your mailbox?"

"Yep. But it's okay," Ivan cheerfully told him. Emil's guilt plummeted to a new low. Now he owed them a new mailbox. He was going to be grounded for a million years. Tino was going to feed him to Hanatamago.

_We have to eat breakfast. I'll even make a bowl of cereal for Berwald and Abel._

_Just sit down and keep quiet, Emil. We'll be okay._

_But…._

Emil blinked, finding himself back on Ivan's couch. He must have really hit his head if stuff from ten years ago was popping up again. The sun was already setting, and the world outside was draped in twilight. Abel no doubt had realized his mistake by now and was tearing through town looking for him. Nikolaus had probably come back to also find his little brother and motorcycle missing. He wasn't sure if Tino and Berwald knew yet, but they would soon, since rumors spread like wildfire in this town. Honestly, it was a miracle Heta hadn't made national news yet.

Every shred of sanity in his brain told him he should leave the house at once and hurry home. Sure, Ivan had been only nice to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't turn psycho all of a sudden.

Employing his best ninja skills, Emil snuck over to the door. Ivan had joined Katyusha in the dining room, and was paying absolutely no attention to him. Thankfully, Grigori was also too busy chasing his tail beside Ivan. Neither the siblings nor the Husky noticed as he silently cracked the door open and slipped outside.

((((()))))

Julio strolled down the street, hands stuffed in his pockets, whistling as he went on his merry way. Today's plan to annoy the heck out of Alfred had been an absolute success. Who knew Alfred could get a girl like Natalya as a girlfriend? Julio only wished she had realized he was kidding with his flirting. Contrary to Alfred's beliefs, Julio was not a weirdo (though he had a talent for reading lips). He was merely repaying his cousin by getting on his arch-nemesis's nerves in every way possible while completely enjoying it.

The Mexican boy's whistling died as a man came into view, walking three gigantic German Shepherds. "Whoa," he couldn't help but utter. This guy was the most fit-looking grandpa he had ever seen. Apparently the old man also had great hearing, for he turned at Julio's gasp.

Julio's wide eyes met his red ones. "Whoa!" he repeated again. "Dude, you're albino!"

The man cracked a grin. "Ain't it awesome?" he cackled. The man held all three leashes in one hand as he extended the other. "Nice to meet you, obvious new guy. I'm the awesome Gilbert Beilschmit."

"Julio Miguel Chavez, Sir. Pleasure to meet you. I came in for the summer to stay with my cousin, Raymón."

Gilbert nodded. "He was the dude that went on the trip with Alfred Kirkland and Matthew Bonnefoy, right?"

"You know them?" Julio asked. An idea hatched in his mind, giving birth to his next plot to utterly irritate Alfred. He kept his malicious laugh hidden and kindly said, "They're both nice people. Alfred, I heard, spent a lot of time playing with the kids. And apparently Matthew's pancakes are heaven."

Gilbert put on a goofy grin, just thinking of the magnificent pancakes that kid could make. "You've gotta have a Matthew Pancake before they leave, dude. They're literally made with edible awesomeness."

Julio laughed, and it wasn't just for show. However, it quickly died as a thought registered in his mind. "…Before they leave? Where are they going?"

"Alfred got this awesome idea for everyone to go on this awesome trip after they graduate. They're leaving in two weeks and won't be back for the rest of the summer. I'm not sure, but I think they're doing a roadtrip. My son's driving them in the awesome Luddy-Mobile," Gilbert explained, unaware he was unintentionally getting the cogs in Julio's brain working again. As he went on to explain how awesome this so-called "Luddy-Mobile" was, Julio politely ignored him. They were leaving after graduation, huh? According to Raymón, that was in two weeks.

Gilbert suddenly cut himself off. Julio blinked in worry as his hand flew to his side, pain melding his face into a groan. "_S-Señor _Beilschmit? Are you okay?"

Julio caught him before he fell, slightly wincing at having all of Gilbert's weight on him. He quickly sat the man down, grabbing his dogs' leashes to ensure they wouldn't run away. However, the dogs seemed just as shocked and worried as him as they crowded around Gilbert, whining. After a moment, Gilbert shook his head, taking a shaky breath. Julio swallowed hard, looking around for a payphone anywhere and cursing himself for not having a phone of his own. When he looked back at Gilbert, he saw him getting to his feet. "Uh, maybe you should stay down?" Julio anxiously chirped,

Gilbert heavily shook his head. "No," he panted. "I'm fine. Just… just a minor lapse in my awesomeness-"

"I think you might have appendicitis," Julio interrupted.

"Had that when I was a kid. Made me miss picture day. Made me miss the first time Elizabeta ever wore her hair down."

Julio furrowed in eyebrows in confusion- _who in world is Elizabeta?_- but Gilbert seemed to be in his own little world. He unfocusedly frowned, accepting the hesitantly offered dog leashes. Gilbert snapped out of his daze and put on another wicked grin. "Sorry, kid. Anyway, I gotta get back home before Ludwig kills me for keeping the dogs out so late."

"_Señor_, wait!" Julio burst, seeing him spin on his heel to march off. "You can't just go after that! What if something's really wrong? I think you need to go to the hospital!"

"I'm fine!" he sang over his shoulder. "Don't you think you should be getting home? It's getting pretty late, Julio!"

Defeated, Julio stood on the sidewalk, watching Gilbert walk off, seemingly reiterating his perfect health to the dogs. But as the shadows stretched longer and the sky began to fade from brilliant red to a more somber navy, Julio sighed and started off for Raymón's house. He really hoped that guy would be okay. He was the kind of stranger you almost didn't have to be wary of, and Julio appreciated that. More people needed to be like Gilbert Beilschmit.

((((()))))

"…You've got to be kidding me. How come I never heard of this?" Alice demanded, scowling at both Sebastiaan and Lars. Sebastiaan shrugged, just as clueless as her. After all, he never knew to ask his father about his family. He assumed his father didn't have anyone, since he never made contact with him. Lars took a long puff on his pipe. With a sigh, Alice dropped down on the hotel bed. "I really wish I could have spoke to Feli. The one time he decides to not go on Facebook is when I _really _need to talk to him."

"I'm telling you, they've probably already figured it out. If not, they're awfully slow." Lars paused a moment, smirk on his face. "Then again, Alfred and Lovino were never the brightest."

Sebastiaan shook his head, still in the dark about these people from America. He vaguely remembered the Vargas brothers from TV, but Alfred was someone new. When Lars assured him they'd probably come to screw things up, Sebastiaan had gotten the worst foreboding feeling….

Not that he was feeling good in first place, since Lars had snuck them over the border into the Netherlands.

Alice hadn't batted an eyelash when Lars proposed they head to Amsterdam, knowing full well she and Sebastiaan didn't have passports. Lars _laughed _when Sebastiaan mentioned them. He said passports were for goody-two-shoes. Besides, Lars had chuckled, we're on our way to Europe's Sin City. Lars then proceeded to unpack their car and stuff everything in the back seat of his truck. It was a cramped half-hour ride to a forest. Once they arrived at said point, Lars put it in gear and charged inside. Sebastiaan had spent the trip screaming, but Alice and Lars were laughing. The instant they came into a clearing, Lars congratulated him for not passing out like a pansy and welcomed them to the Netherlands.

Figures they would be adrenaline junkies to his scaredy-cat attitude.

Well, Sebastiaan didn't care if he was a goody-two-shoes or not. His father was going to kill him once he found out about this.

And that got him to wondering. Just what would his father say if he found out Sebastiaan knew everything? Well, not _everything_, but he knew enough. That was part that really scared him, truthfully- Sebastiaan almost didn't care that his father had done so much lying. Isabella and Lars had done the same thing, so he almost expected it.

Alice let another tired sigh, and Lars absently tugged on his bangs. His eyes flickered to the angry red alarm clock (which was going to be unplugged and stuffed behind the bed the second Sebastiaan and Alice weren't looking). "It's past your bed times, kiddos. If you want to make a meaningful phone call or email, I'd advise you to do so now. Once we hit the road tomorrow, we'll be driving without signal. It'll feel good to be back in the boonies."

"Heta wasn't the boonies," Alice argued with a half smile. "We're not all related."

"Yes we are," Lars mused. "Not by blood, but we're related in the craziest ways."

Sebastiaan decided to call his father and leave them to reminisce. The hallway was eerie and hushed, but Sebastiaan didn't feel the least uncomfortable. He had enough faith in Lars not to lead them somewhere sleazy. His brother knew too many people to allow that to ever happen. The phone rang three echoing times before a yawn answered. "It's _before _the crack of dawn over here," his father began, sounding exhausted.

"You were up messing with your cat," Sebastiaan chuckled. He took his father's annoyed silence as confirmation. The cat, dubbed Lidewij-Maria, had popped up on their porch one afternoon during a storm. Sebastiaan's father took it in with no hesitation, glaring at Bast's dog, _daring _him to utter a bark at their new guest. The cat had captured his father's interests and thus was branded as "a cat tons awesomer than all other cats". Though he had to let it back outside, Lidewij-Maria decided to make their porch her home. She came running every time Sebastiaan's father neared the door.

"So, where'd Lars drag you guys off to? Did he smuggle you over?"

Well, it appeared his father would not kill him for illegally crossing the border. With a roll of his eyes, Sebastiaan leaned against the wall. "We're in some small town a few miles from the border. We got two rooms, and I'm going to have to spend the night with Lars. Since you know him, do you know if he snores? Because if he's anything like you-"

"Hey, hey! I do not snore."

"You've woken up the neighbors! You're the reason Boudewijn sleeps during the day!"

"Your dumb dog just has issues. Know what he did yesterday? Got on his back and started twisting around. I think he's a little mental, Bast."

Boudewijn was simply trying to scratch his back, since Sebastiaan's father probably let him get fleas. He didn't believe in flea collars, thinking them stupid junk people wasted their money on. Sebastiaan sighed, again making his father promise to be nice to the poor dog. No doubt with a roll of his own eyes, his father promised.

The two were silent a moment, basking in the knowledge the other was on the end of the line. Sebastiaan knew that wouldn't be enough. With all that Lars had told him, Sebastiaan was now sure he really was all his father had. But he wasn't anyone that important- not, at least, for the kind of man his father was. His father had given up everything to take him in and get Lars to America. He had lost everyone he knew and loved.

Just for one little insignificant kid that apparently reminded him of his brother.

That much Sebastiaan had been told. He knew nothing about this brother- not even his name- but he was reminded all the time how alike they were. This brother was the only family of his father's that he knew.

"There's been something I've been wondering, Dad," he began, feeling the night hours suddenly tug at him. Sebastiaan paused a moment. "Well, not really wondering. Lars already told me. I just… I'd just like to hear it coming from you. You aren't really from Luxembourg, are you. The country, not the city. And… and you know what my mother did. You know how she stole all that money? Lars said she took some from you, too. That's how you got involved. But… but I don't get it. Why would you-"

His father interrupted him. "Before I explain anything, I'd like to ask _you _a question."

Sebastiaan blinked. He nodded, knowing his father would ask his question regardless if Sebastiaan wanted him to or not.

"Do you know my name?"

"Y-your name? Of course I know your name, Dad. What kind of question is-"

He could just see his Father's patient, weary smile. Sebastiaan knew he had said the wrong thing. "Bast, I know I'm a jerk for saying this, but you don't want to know what happened. I already live in a pathetic self-pity, and I don't want your shame to add to mine. Yes, your mother stole my hard-earned cash. Yes, I drove all the way to Amsterdam to confront her. Yes, I promised to sneak Lars overseas and, _yes_, I wanted to take care of you because you reminded me of the brother that never returned my letters. That's all, Sebastiaan. That's all anyone needs to know. I hope Lars is aware that telling you any more will result in his untimely assassination at the hands of a Frederick the Great look-alike currently living in Luxembourg City."

His father hung up.

Sebastiaan frowned deeply, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His father's past was his own business, and Sebastiaan knew it was no concern of his. He owed his father in more ways than he could count, and digging into his life would be the worst possible way to thank him for his sacrifices.

But something like this… it couldn't just be ignored. Because of his father's actions, his past was also Sebastiaan's, and he was entitled to know it. Somehow, he was going to figure out why his mother did the things she did, and how Lars and Sebastiaan's father got to be on such good terms. If it meant waiting for Alice's American friends to come, he would wait. According to her, they needed to know just as much as him.

He went back inside the room right as Alice was leaving for her own. They said their goodnights and went their separate ways. Despite all the revelations they had made, everything felt completely normal. She knew more about Sebastiaan's father than he did, and he okay with that. Alice knew the importance of his name, and eventually she would explain it all to Sebastiaan.

He had to know why Brandon Beilschmit was so important.


	9. Chapter 9

**Korean hanboks are beautiful. Seriously, google one right now! Anyway. A **_**jeogori **_**is the top piece of the hanbok, like a jacket. The **_**chima **_**is a long wrap around skirt that the women wear. Men wear baggy pants called **_**baji**_**. AND THEY'RE ALL SO PRETTY-**

**By the way, the guy who murdered Emil's parents isn't Izaya Orihara. XD Speaking of him, WATCH **_**DURARARA! **_**WATCH IT NOW!**

**Chapter 9-**

"_Welcome to our Halloween Special. However, since Heta High is unawesome, today has been renamed 'Culture Day' for educational purposes. This is your awesome lederhosen-clad host, Brandon, speaking!"_

_When Brandon removed his hand from the screen, Gilbert popped up in a navy, ragged military uniform that looked three sizes bigger than it should have been. An iron cross hung on his tie and various other medals hung on his jacket. "Dude," he began, seemingly in shock, "I think 'Tonio actually looks hotter than Francis today." Gilbert slapped his hand over his mouth as soon as the words had snuck out. "Darn it," he muttered, quickly moving out of the camcorder's range. Brandon's laugh sounded from behind the camcorder._

_It instantly cut off however. "By the way, anyone who calls _mein bruder _a Nazi is getting their face violently ripped off. Thought I'd mention that."_

"_It's our grandpa's_ _old World War I uniform. It was _before _Nazis, thank you very much," Gilbert sourly put in, momentarily leaning into view once more._

_The camcorder next swung to face Aria, openly gaping. Upon noticing she was being taped, she quickly shut her mouth. She huffily gathered up her flowery skirts and readjusted the cloth over her head. "Say a word," she threatened, "and I'll throw that thing out a window."_

"_But you look pretty, too!" Antonio burst, gaining the screen's attention at last. From head to toe, he was dressed in a golden and deep red matador's costume. To complete the amazing look, he also had a crimson sheet and a bull toy tucked under his arm. He beamed at Aria. "I didn't know that was how Italian girls used to dress! Really, it looks _muy hermosa."

_Surprisingly enough, Aria's cheeks were suddenly the color of Antonio's jacket. Brandon snickered, and she reached out to smack him. Antonio acquired control of the camcorder, turning it to him. He winced at the angry Italian spewing from Aria's mouth. "I do not think this is a nice thing to tape," he observed, twisting the thing around so it viewed the other students, each dressed in the clothing of a different nationality. "Ooh!" Antonio suddenly burst, taking off towards a young woman in a dark green _qipao_. "Tohko! You look very pretty! You too, Yao!"_

_Yao's demeanor instantly soured. Tohko, beside him, gave the camcorder a friendly wave. Antonio was met with a bland glare as he gushed over how fancy their clothes were. Despite Yao's best efforts to hide himself behind Tohko, Antonio refused to let him leave the spotlight._

"_A-Antonio-san? Perhaps you should go a little easy on him?"_

_A Japanese girl came into view next, hands neatly folded in front of her pastel colored kimono. A yellow _obi_ was wrapped around her waist, striped with blue. Cherry blossoms rained down on the soft silk of her robes._

"_Umeko," Antonio, Yao, and nearly every other young man in hallway awed._

_She gave a short wave. "Hello, infamous camcorder. I have heard many stories about you."_

"_We're taping the best parts of our lives to show future… people," Antonio awkwardly ended, unable to remember the correct word. He reverted back to his happy self almost immediately. "Anyway, do you have any words for them?"_

"_Watch out for Arthur-san and Francis-san," she said seriously, worriedly looking over her shoulder. "You too, Antonio-san. Apparently they are celebrating Culture Day by reenacting every single war fought between Great Britain and France. I believe they are on the Hundred Years' War right now. Arthur-san brought foam swords. He is also dressed as a pirate, for whatever reason. Francis-san has been asking every pretty girl he sees to be his Joan of Arc. I think he's been slapped at _least _fifty times by now."_

"_Only fifty? Must be an off day for him."_

_As he gave his goodbyes, declaring to find Arthur and Francis in the middle of a duel, he caught a fleeting kiss between Yao and Umeko. "They're so cute," Antonio gushed. "Alright, future people! I think the bell is about to ring, and Mr. McAvoy will be angry if I am late again. Always remember your culture, _sí_? When you get to dress up, it's a lot of fun! _Adios_!"_

((((()))))

Emil had been stumbling along until night fell, with each step growing more and more convinced he was going to get kidnapped or murdered. He wanted to punch himself for listening to his flawed rationality and leaving. Who cares if Ivan was crazy? At least Katyusha was normal, and so was Natalya, as long as he kept his distance and didn't make eye-contact. Emil was only grateful his headache had finally subsided.

He stuck close to the street lamps as he walked along, trying his best to not look like he had earlier been in a motorcycle accident. Since no one bothered to stop and offer help, Emil supposed he was doing a good job of it.

_Hands up!_

The man once again forced his way into his mind. For what felt like an hour now, Emil had been fighting with himself to forget about him. Remembering that jerk was the last thing he needed right now. But still, almost insistently, he kept coming back. Emil could almost completely remember him now. The man was definitely Asian, and definitely hadn't bathed in a while. He wore a thick fur coat and spoke in the strangest accent. Whatever it was, it immediately pointed him out as a foreigner. Even now Emil remembered all the normal accents of New York.

For a moment, Emil stopped. He looked away from the pavement to meet the ostentatious lights of the mall.

He narrowed his eyes. Thinking about that man had curiously led him straight to the hangout of the Asians he knew. Emil let out a sigh and pushed his creaky arm to comb his hair a little. His clothes were grass stained, but his face seemed clean. Probably thanks to Katyusha. Swallowing the guilt of running off like that, he made his legs carry him across the road and into the parking lot. Kiku wouldn't ask questions and would let him use his phone. Emil had stupidly left his at home.

"I really hope Ivan didn't decide to come in for work," he muttered to himself as he walked inside.

((((()))))

"No, you're tying your _jeogori_ wrong. Here, turn around for me."

Yong Soo complied, handing the jacket's ribbons behind him to Bong Chung. She hastily tied the Hanbok correctly, softly smiling the entire way. Yong Soo himself was fighting to keep from bouncing in excitement. This was the happiest day of his life, he was sure. Everything was perfect for once. New spring leaves met the perfectly blue sky, shining brightly with the sun. Everyone he knew milled about, marveling at the temples surrounding them. Songkwang was as beautiful as Bong Chung had told him- a jewel temple indeed.

He was most amazed they had gotten to come to Korea for the Sol Nal festival. His very first Korean New Year, celebrated the way it should be! No more stupid Chinese lanterns or random dragon toys sailing through the air! Kids were flying kites and playing games, music was playing in the distance, and Kiku wasn't wasting rice by throwing it out the door at bad spirits!

When he turned back to her, he felt like he was looking at a manifested dream. The _jeogori _of her hanbok was a nearly blinding white and a softer, more elegant pink colored the _chima_. Her dark hair was braided and twisted into a bun kept together with a golden flower comb. Actually, it was almost like the white lotus comb his mother wore on occasion. Yao had gotten in for her a few years ago from some Chinese eBay-like thing. Since his mother had loved it, Yong Soo resolved to buy Bong Chung one some day.

"This is wonderful," Bong Chung told him, taking his hand. Yong Soo completely blocked out the rest of the marvelous scene to look at her face, surely the most wonderful thing there. She sighed and started leading him off. "I've really missed home, Yong Soo. I hated that we had to move to America. My mother just couldn't keep a job. We had to do something. She's always been sickly, you know. We were poor, because we had to give all we had to pay her hospital bills. But it's okay now. We're here in Heta, and I don't have to worry anymore."

"Why is that?" Yong Soo asked.

She came to a stop. With a grateful smile, Bong Chung said, "I have you now, Yong Soo. I'm not alone anymore, my mother is getting better, and you're all I need. Don't worry about what your brother says. We're perfect for each other, and that is all."

The scene was just right, so he leaned forward to kiss her-

-and took a slap to the face.

Yong Soo's eyes snapped wide open as a cry escaped his mouth. His chin fell off his hand and he faceplanted into the counter beside the cash register. The noise from the dining area and usual racket from the kitchen bombarded his ears, pulling away any remnant of his dream. He was back in a boring t-shirt and blue jeans instead of the elegant navy and white hanbok Bong Chung had personally fixed.

Reality was stupid.

"Kieu! Why'd you hit him?" Lam burst, anxiously wringing his hands. "I didn't mean for you to wake him up that way!"

Yong Soo peeked a look at the two siblings, a massive pout on his face from having to miss not only the most romantic kiss ever, but also the coolest festival ever. Kieu hopelessly shrugged, embarrassment causing her to bite at her lip. "He was making kissy-faces at me! What was I supposed to do?"

"_Not _smack him?"

With another mighty groan, Yong Soo covered his reddening face. Making _kissy-faces?_ Ugh, someone needed to come right away and drop him in a hole. The shame would never end now!

Not one to be very patient, Kieu shook his shoulder. "You fell asleep up here, so I took the liberty of waking you up before Yao realized you were asleep."

Yong Soo's eyes went wide. That was right- he was supposed to be on guard duty! "_Jegil_! _Appa _is going to kill me!" In a flurry, Yong Soo worriedly examined the cash register for any tampering. He then checked their stocked fortune cookies (and absolutely did not snitch one for himself). Upon finding all seemingly normal, he let out a sigh of relief.

Apparently, almost all of Yong Soo's paranoia had somehow transferred over to Yao, who was now afraid someone was walking up to their check-out counter and taking money for the heck of it. Thus, he had someone posted near the money at all times to ensure all was well. Yong Soo thought he was just being crazy, but after Yao swore to ban the internet from him for a month if he didn't go along with it….

He grabbed Kieu's shoulders, making the girl flinch. "I owe you my life," he awed, shaking her to express his point. "However, since you both have blackmail on me, I cannot be held responsible for any attempted assassinations. By the way, the only reason I have doubt of these assassinations is because ninjas are Japanese, not Korean. If ninjas were Korean, you'd already be dead."

Kieu calmly pulled his fingers away from her, taking a step back out of his reach. Yong Soo suddenly blinked, taking in her appearance. Rosy blush graced her cheeks, and her lips shined with a cherry blossom color. "Whoa," he intelligently started, "you're pretty and stuff."

Face blazing, Kieu next covered her face, hiding the makeup. "Your sister tied me to a _chair_," she miserably ground out. Lam comfortingly patted her back. "It was torture! And… and Tao just _stood _there, handing her stuff to her! I swear, Yong Soo, they're out to kill me!"

Yong Soo rolled his eyes. She was such a drama queen. But, with a smirk, Yong Soo wondered how she would react to Feliks and one of _his _infamous makeovers! Mentally planning to turn her over to him sometime soon, Yong Soo feigned innocence and shrugged. "Tao is in on it to be evil. Xiao Mei's just trying to be helpful."

"By holding me hostage?"

Okay, so maybe Xiao Mei was in it to be evil too. Yong Soo wasn't even going to pretend his sister was as nice as she seemed. She was constantly picking at him, too, trying to fix his hair all the time! He liked it this way, annoying hair that stuck up and all!

Kieu miserably sighed, spinning away to mope in the dining room. Lam skipped after her, repeatedly assuring her it wasn't even that noticeable, and that it would wash right off!

Yong Soo felt a hand land on his shoulder. "'You're pretty and stuff'?" his mother intoned behind him.

He nervously laughed, whipping around to face her. His eyes landed on the lotus comb in her hair, the very same he had been thinking of in his dream. A girl in a hanbok popped into his mind, almost bringing a frown to his face. Bong Chung had been smiling all throughout his dream, and everything had just been… perfect. No stupid restaurants, no dumb, irrational fears that Yong Soo now found silly. Leave it to Kiku to completely throw him off balance like that.

Umeko theatrically sighed, placing her hands on her hips, ripping him away from his thoughts. "Whatever am I going to do with you? Falling asleep on the job, getting your cousin flustered…."

"I was only telling her the truth. She was pretty," Yong Soo said defensively. "I was doing a good deed, complimenting her."

"And falling asleep?"

"Psh. I have no idea what you're talking about, _Eomeoni. _I would never do something like that!"

Umeko chuckled, and slipped an apron he hadn't seen before over his head. "Go make some kimchi, _chiisana senshi_. I'll take over."

Despite being slightly insulted upon having a new Japanese nickname, Yong Soo gave her a crushing hug. Perhaps his mother wasn't completely evil, even if she was Japanese. Kiku needed to learn to be like her.

Yao grabbed his sleeve before he could even hope to step foot towards the fridge. Yong Soo let out a groan. He waited as patiently as he could for Yao to hang up the phone. Umeko frowned at the two.

"That was Ivan," Yao sighed at long last. "I need you to cover for me, Umeko. I'm sorry, Soo, but you'll have to wait on the kimchi."

Ivan. Of course. Off to ruin his hopes and dreams again. He was always hogging his _appa_! Yong Soo let out his best teenager sigh and propped his chin back on his palm. "What is it this time, _Appa_?"

"He lost track of that Vainamoinen boy," Yao explained, handing his apron over to Umeko. "Apparently he wrecked in front of their house. Katyusha was sobbing in the background, so I'd better hurry."

"What? Which one? There's, like, nine of them!" And none of them, Yong Soo knew for sure, would dare wreck in front of _Ivan's_ house. Emil was scared stiff of him, and Tino avoided him like the plague. Yong Soo didn't know about the other three, but he assumed they too were wary of him. Everyone with a brain tried to keep their distance, except poor, delusional Matthew and Feliks, who spent most of his time prank calling him. Toris didn't count, because Ivan kept trying to hang out with him. Poor guy.

Kiku next popped up, surprising them all. Lately he had been completely unresponsive, face glued to a book or his laptop. Yong Soo watched his brother nervously clasp his hands. "Um, you mentioned one of the Vainamoinen's running off? Well, Emil came _here_. He sought me out and asked to call his brothers."

Yong Soo peeked over his shoulder to see the aforementioned boy slumped over a table, head on his arms. He looked to be in terrible shape, shirt ripped and pants muddy. People were already staring. Before Yong Soo could even process the action, he found himself marching over to him. "Hey," he said softly. Emil groggily lifted his head. "Want to hang out in the back? I've got a Chinese Dragon Beard candy stash."

"Uh…-"

"Come on!" Yong Soo resisted the urge to pull him out of the chair and drag him away. He at least had the decency to help him up, however. "So, anyway, what were you doing at Ivan's house? I'd have crawled away to the next house."

A faint grin popped up on his face. "I was more concerned about Nikolaus's bike. You don't want to see him angry."

"No, you don't want to see _my dad _get angry. He throws a major tantrum and usually ends up hurting his back. He's really old, you know." Yong Soo practically skipped over to the back room door, bursting in on Tao and Xiao Mei's cleaning. Powder coated Xiao Mei's dress, and a lovely pink shade of lipstick was smeared on Tao's face. Yong Soo didn't even ask. He led Emil over to a chair, and spun back to his siblings, still frozen.

"Kieu," they explained at once.

Yong Soo snickered. Without either sibling noticing, he quickly took out his phone and snapped a nice picture of them. Oh, the delicious blackmail…. He then cleared his throat and got down to business, explaining the situation. Xiao Mei was all over Emil, shoving candy and ice packs at him. Tao eventually had to drag her away before Emil passed out from the shock of her hysteria. Not long after Xiao Mei had been sentenced to dish duty, the back room was silent. Yong Soo and Tao kept guard by the door, munching on the pocky Kiku had unfortunately left behind. Emil had went right back to sleep as soon as he could, yawning out to wake him only when Nikolaus came by.

"I have a feeling Dad will give us a lecture later," Tao said, breaking through the quiet.

Yong Soo stuffed an entire stick into his mouth. Even though they were Japanese and thus inherently evil, he had a weakness for strawberry pocky. Not that he would ever admit that. He shrugged. "'Family is important!'" he burst in his best Yao voice. "'Even if you don't like them and want to run away from them, Family is the most important thing to you! Now, who wants a fortune cookie?'"

"You're a brat," Tao deadpanned. However, the betraying smirk was on his face. "You forgot the part where he goes, 'You must honor your brothers and sister! You must honor me and your mother! After all, when the time comes when I can finally shove this business onto one of you so I can retire to a nice tea shop in Beijing, you will need them to bring you nice things so you don't shrivel up and turn into a bitter old man like me! Aiyaa!'"

"Stupid Kiku already got out of getting this place. I want to have a heart-to-heart, so I won't have to get the restaurant!"

"You had that the other day," Tao reminded him, tossing the empty pocky box into the trash. He reached over to the pillow Kiku claimed for himself to sit on and dragged out another box. "Huh. That must have been the last strawberry."

Tao knew as well as Yong Soo that Kiku had more hidden somewhere. He even had cappuccino-flavored pocky! That particular stash was kept under his futon at home. Crazy Kiku had to sleep on the floor because he wanted to prepare himself for life in Japan. He was sure he was going to move to Tokyo and attend school in some place called Ikebukuro, _all because of an anime._ Honestly, who actually bases their future on the events of a fictional anime? Sometimes Yong Soo wanted to smack some sense into him. After all, his obsession with Korea was completely normal as opposed to his obsession with Japan.

Silly Kiku.

"But I kinda wonder," Tao began again, ripping open the pocky box with no qualms whatsoever. Kiku wouldn't miss it anyway. "Dad hates it here, right? So why did he take it? You know Tohko would have if she had no other choice."

"Maybe Mom talked him into it. She can make him do anything."

Yong Soo frowned a bit at his pause. He wouldn't admit this either, but Tao was actually pretty smart. Tao had his own kind of ancient Chinese wisdom, and Yong Soo knew he would do well to listen to him. Tao jadedly munched on a pocky stick. "Okay, let me ask you this, Soo. If Bong Chung, like, asked you to go to Japan and stay there until the day you die, would you do it?"

"No way!" he yelled. Yong Soo winced, whipping his head around to Emil. Thankfully, he was still asleep. "Okay, so maybe Mom didn't do it. Do you think Grandpa bullied him into it?"

"That's more likely to happen, but no. Dad hates Grandpa almost as much as he hates Red Flower. I just don't get it."

"You could always ask him."

Tao sighed, staring intently at the now empty pocky box. "I don't think he'll tell me. I know Kiku knows. He's known for three years now. If he won't tell us, I doubt Dad will. Family _is _important, Soo. But I don't think that means you can use them as a crutch. Some things we have to deal with on our own. Dad doesn't want us to know because he thinks we'll think bad of him for it. That's a stupid thing to think, but you know how he is."

Yong Soo did know. Yao was more childish than any of his children- even Yong Soo himself!- but he knew when to grow up and take responsibility. He thought it was his duty to keep them safe from anything and everything.

"…Maybe he did it because he wanted to let Tohko act," Yong Soo said after a long while. "He's serious about all that family stuff. Maybe he really did give it all to let his sis be happy."

Tao shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe he did. When you love someone a lot, you do crazy things."

An evil giggle flew from Yong Soo's mouth. "Like when you let Michelle give you a makeover when she was sick last year?"

"Shut up," Tao muttered, jumping out of his seat. He shoved Yong Soo halfway out of his seat and slipped out the door. Before slamming it after him, he glared, "I'm telling Kiku you went through his stuff and trashed it all in the name of Korea."

"You're a jerk!" he replied.

Ugh. Twins were the worst.

((((()))))

"Don't give me that crap!" Abel yelled, voice echoing through their flat. Emil's head jerked up at the sound. His eyes met the living room ceiling, and everything came flying back at him. Last night, his parents were murdered. Abel didn't run away with them. Berwald left him, Nikolaus, and Tino alone at home to go find him. For hours, their was nothing but silence offered from his brothers. Not that Emil had much to say either- he found it funny how his throat was so tight, and how everything he tried to say came out strangled.

Emil sat up on the couch, where he must have fallen asleep sometime in the early hours of morning. Nikolaus and Tino were gone, but he now heard Berwald's low voice attempting to calm Abel down. Quietly, the boy slipped over to the kitchen door. Inside sat his brothers and several policemen. Everyone looked miserable in their own right. The police looked as though they were having second thoughts about coming to talk, and his brothers either looked ready to kill or ready to go back to sleep and hope everything would be normal when they woke up.

"Berwald and I are legal adults!" Abel continued despite Berwald's best attempts to quiet him. "I don't care what protocol calls for. You are _not _taking my brothers away from me!"

To say the least, Emil was stunned. Of course he knew Abel loved him and everyone else. Emil loved them all too. But Abel also called Berwald a grouch and talked about how he couldn't wait to move away and get some breathing room. He had already planned to have parties every night, and to come and visit only for Christmas and maybe their birthdays.

"You two can't support your brothers," one of the officers argued. Emil narrowed his eyes at the fat man. He seemed sincere, but Emil hated the blandness of his voice. Anyone who _really _cared wouldn't be arguing with Abel. "Nicky here might be able to get a job already, but nothing that would put food on the table. You'd at least have to give one of them up. I'd suggest the youngest one. He needs a stable home and-"

"Shut up! He has a freaking stable home! And, mark my words, that little kid would run away from any stupid house you put him into. We're the only ones who know him well enough to really take care of him, you hear? And my brother's name is _Nikolaus_. No one calls him 'Nicky' unless they want their head ripped off."

That was true. Abel, being obnoxious, had called him "Nicky" for an entire week. Over the course of that week, all of his underwear shockingly turned pink and every ounce of hair gel in the bathroom was found scattered all over the subway stations. With all the elbowing he'd received, Abel found he had a cracked rib.

Emil lightly smiled as the officer floundered for a moment, trying to find the right words to say that would cool Abel's anger. Unfortunately, nothing he said could do the trick. Abel didn't get angry easily, but once he did, it was like trying to fend off a mother bear. And, right now, he sort of was a mother bear.

This whole spectacle was just a waste of time. Abel would yell at them until his face turned blue. Berwald would take over in time, and Emil knew Tino would side with him. Nikolaus wouldn't dare let these losers take him away. Not even New York policemen could survive a fight with five Nordics.

He sat down at the door and rested his head against the wall. They guys had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Abel would likely chase them out of their flat with one of the axes from his collection.

They would be okay. Even if they didn't have a lot of money and they all had to get jobs, somehow, they would be fine without Mom and Dad.

Without….

((((()))))

"When you love someone a lot, you do crazy things."

Emil squeezed his eyes shut. Crazy things. Oh, they had all been crazy back then. Nikolaus literally locked himself in his room, looking day and night for a new house they could move into. Tino and Berwald personally carried out all the furniture they could stuff into Abel's pickup truck, since paying actual movers was out of the question. Abel worked three jobs. On a good day, he got four hours of sleep. Emil helped out as best as could, keeping them distracted with silly stories about his imaginary pet puffin. No one would get sad on his watch.

It made him think. What if that man had loved someone so much that he'd murder two people and take their money, just to take care of them? Not that that was the case, most likely. People like him usually didn't have families. And even if he did, was the person he loved more important than letting five kids keep their parents?

Nikolaus and Abel would probably ground him for the rest of his life. But he had some money saved up. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to get him back to New York.

He didn't know why, but he knew he had to find that man. To take revenge? To see if the man would recognize him and feel remorse?

Emil let out in audible sigh. This was crazy. _He _was crazy.

…But they still hadn't decided where they were going on that roadtrip.

**Translations-**

**Spanish**

_**Muy hermosa- very beautiful**_

**Korean**

_**Jegil- Darn it**_

_**Eomeoni- mother**_

**Japanese**

_**Chiisana senshi- little warrior**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Alright, I promise this gets totally epic starting next chapter! Hopefully this will be the last boring exposition chapter. XD**

**Johann Elric- Kugelmugel**

**Zackarias Lysen- Ladonia**

**Chapter 10-**

"…throwing the best party ever and recording it, so he can watch it over and over and OVER AGAIN in Germany!"

Brandon let a yawn, absently scratching behind Boudewijn's ears. The TV was almost too quiet to hear, but he knew every bit of it by heart anyway. True to Gilbert's word, he _had_ watched it repeatedly, until he could perfectly see that night in his head when he closed his eyes.

At first, it all had seemed stupid. Francis being sentimental, Elizabeta willingly allowing them use of her camcorder, Gilbert showing off his insanity little by little. All of them were crazy- even Roderich, definitely the most "normal" of the bunch. According to him, anyway. Anyone who obsessed over cake and music that much had to be a little off.

Barely two months past, and Gilbert stopped sending his letters. Every week, without fail, he had sent updates on their schemes. It was always a long, detailed story of how his awesomeness did this or that, or how Francis dated twenty girls in the freshman class in one week (that did not end well, Brandon was told). Brandon almost didn't want to believe it, but he missed hearing about their escapades. He was worried to death something had happened to them, and no one replied to his letters either. Since German phones were stupid, he couldn't call home, either.

Before fall break came, when he was supposed to come back to the States for a while, a certain Isabella van Houten conned him out of every nickel he had.

And that's when the new kind of insanity started.

Isabella had told him she was a career councilor. She worked at his college, and was a nice lady. One day, she hacked into his bank account and ran to the Netherlands. It took him a while, but Brandon found her and her three kids. Seeing them, he almost couldn't call the police to drag her lying butt to jail.

Lars convinced him to. For years, Brandon was told, she had done this. Lars was sick of her act, even if she was his mother. While the police were on their way, Brandon blabbed everything to Lars. He told him about Heta, and how it was small enough that he wouldn't be found by the government if he went. Alice and Sebastiaan would be alright there. However, even with giving Lars the plane ticket he had held on to for months, there was only enough legal money of Isabella's to buy another.

By a miracle (or some of his own shady dealings), Lars knew just the associate of his late father's who could forge anything that could be needed. Brandon knew this kid was obviously a little screwy, but who cared? He refused to have them scattered because of him. Until he had enough money to get another ticket, however long that may have been, Brandon promised he would take care of Sebastiaan. Lars and Alice said their goodbyes and were gone by the end of the week.

Unlike Gilbert, Lars actually wrote back. He had went straight to Heta, like Brandon told him to. Nothing had changed, really. Lars never ran into Gilbert or any of the others. He bought himself an apartment and was the best big brother in the world to Alice.

All the while, Brandon quit college and took up doing odd jobs here and there. Sebastiaan was the quietest kid he had ever met. Never asked for anything, helped out as much as he could. He was the exact opposite of Gilbert.

Still, Sebastiaan made him feel like a big brother again. He didn't speak much of Gilbert or his father- he had assumed the worst when they stopped writing him- but Brandon told Sebastiaan he was just like his little brother. Both of them were little snots. The look on Sebastiaan's face had been priceless.

But after that, Brandon didn't have a hope of turning that kid away one day.

"Now then!" Gilbert's cocky, obnoxious voice crowed from the TV. "I propose a toast to Brandon, most awesome big brother in the world!"

Smiling faintly, Brandon picked up his own soda can and dipped it toward the screen. "To you, Mini-Awesome."

As he turned the television off and stretched out his tired old bones (several of which didn't sound too happy to be moved), Boudewijn whined up at him. "Aw, shut up," Brandon murmured. "It must've sucked for you to be taken away from your brothers and sisters, right? But you don't even remember them. Six years has been a long time for you. It's been twenty-five for me, but I didn't get the pleasure of forgetting. You're lucky, Mutt. Now go to sleep."

Brandon still wondered if he did the right thing, giving up his chance to know the truth. For all he knew, Gilbert and _Vati _could have died twenty-five years ago. That would have stopped Francis from writing, which he did on occasion. Antonio couldn't spell to save his life, so he never sent any word. Brandon would have definitely assumed calamity had occurred if Arthur had written.

The only one of them Brandon had seen since that night was Antonio. If Sebastiaan hadn't been in the room, there would have been some serious carnage dealt to the television. No one messed with Antonio Carlos Hernandez Fernandez-Carriedo, or his family! He was Brandon's little henchman! Even more than that, he was living proof something terrible hadn't happened to all of them.

If he was okay, what about Francis and Arthur, or Samantha and Elizabeta? More importantly, what about Gilbert, his father, and Roderich?

_Bast, I know I'm a jerk for saying this, but you don't want to know what happened._

Brandon felt like smacking himself. Twenty-five years was enough time to get every ounce of cowardice out of him. However, at the first chance he had to finally tell the truth, he found he couldn't do it. He simply could not tell his own "son" that his brother's name was Gilbert and that he still missed him very much.

What was wrong with him? If he continued pushing it all away, would he really forget it all one day? The thought scared him to death. What if Gilbert really was dead? He couldn't talk about him and wouldn't let himself think about him, but he absolutely could not forget about him!

Every bit of emotion in him welled up in his head, making everything mixed and mashed around. Was he dead, was he alive? Did he marry Elizabeta? Did Arthur and Francis finally stop their petty feuding?

He had to know. He had to find out!

"Boudewijn!" Brandon called, turning around and marching back to the living room. He grabbed the leash hanging on the wall. "I lied- do not go to bed! I'm taking you on a walk, and you're gonna help me figure out how to get a hold of those idiots in America! We'll start with Antonio in Massachusetts!"

((((()))))

"That isn't artistic."

Inside Heta Middle School's art room sat a group of seventh graders off in the corner. The annual art show had finally come to end, and the top ranking students were now celebrating. Well, one was celebrating by boasting his third place on the internet. The young red head proudly had his ribbon draped over his piece, a clay deer. Zackarias Lysen spun around and leaned back in the swivel chair (normally reserved by the teacher), watching the bickering that was soon to turn into a full fledged argument.

Johann Elric sat on top of one of the art tables, hugging his knees to his chest. His two long braids hung over his shoulders. Behind him, standing four feet tall, sat a stunning granite sphere. What had won him first place, however, was the intricate engravings on the surface. There was not a single nick or crooked line any where- Zackarias, Johann, and Wendy had examined the thing tirelessly all afternoon.

Wendy Dubose, who really wished her grandma would stop lecturing their art teacher and take her home already, huffily crossed her arms. "What do you mean, this isn't artistic? I spent _three weeks _perfecting this! Zack, google Prince Paul of Wy right now. Tell me if this painting isn't an exact replica of him."

"That is precisely why it isn't artistic!" Johann burst, throwing an accusing finger at the portrait. Wendy narrowed her eyes at him, knuckles turning white around her paintbrush. "Art isn't about talent! Art is a sense- a free, wild thing that has no bounds. It is the exact opposite of talent! Look at Zack's sculpture, for instance. With a bit refining, it could represent the epitome of art!"

"It's a _deer._ How is that thing art when my Prince Paul in oil isn't?"

"It lacks emotion and-"

Johann was suddenly cut off when the art room creaked open. All three turned to face the boy and drooped. Wendy fought to keep the disappointed pout off her face and sat down. "Hey, Raivis," she greeted.

The blonde nervously grinned, softly shutting the door behind him. "Um, the choir's show just ended, but Mr. Hall is talking to my brother. Reliving the old days. Mind if I hang out with you guys?"

Zack spun around in his chair a moment, frown on his face. "Raivis, if you're choosing us as friends, you have bad taste. And you just ruined the chick-fight of the century."

"My hair is art," Johann indignantly muttered. "I assure you I am not a girl."

"That blonde chick we met at the park thinks otherwise," Zack snickered.

Even Wendy had to laugh at that. Yesterday afternoon, her grandma had thrown her outside and told her to have fun at the park. Zack and Johann had also been at the park, and had brought picnic supplies. While they ate (and argued about their art grades- Johann was exactly one point better than Wendy), a nice couple dropped by on their date. The boy, who said a lot of words that would have earned him a flogging from Wendy's grandma, had brought his own picnic basket, full of pasta, pizza, and churros. Something about him just seemed so familiar….

His date instantly fell in love with the kids. She called herself Lili, and was positive Johann was a girl. No matter how hard the three tried to explain it to her, she refused to believe that a boy could have braids.

Johann sighed, a grin on his face. "Yeah, she was crazy. But I like her. She was living art."

"A PERSON CANNOT BE ART!" Wendy shrilled, waving her arms exasperatedly.

As they burst into yet another argument, Raivis shrunk down in his seat, trying to make himself disappear. Zackarias had been right about his terrible taste in friends- these three (for Zack was now egging on the fight) were completely insane. Raivis almost felt like Toris, who had Feliks for a friend. However, not even these three combined could be as bad as Feliks on a good day.

Raivis could just feel the migraine coming. Never again was he going to scoff at Toris's headaches after a day with Feliks. It had to be torture! While his three so-called friends were preoccupied, Raivis walked back to the teacher's desk to snoop. He hadn't taken art, but he had heard from Toris, who had, that Mr. Aimes kept many of his old students' work. If he looked hard enough, he might find something of Toris's.

He knew next to nothing about Toris's life before he came to live with them. Raivis was still young at the time, so his parents hadn't explained much. He couldn't remember half of what they had told him, but Raivis perfectly remember how miserable Toris had been. He was a saint, cleaning around the house and playing with Raivis when asked to, but his smiles were always tired and weary, like he had long ago given up on happiness.

Though Toris wasn't actually his brother, Raivis couldn't think of him as anything otherwise. He had always wanted a brother closer to his age anyway. Eduard never wanted to play action figures with him, too busy messing around on his computer or playing on his electric keyboard. Tinkering with the thing had been Eduard's hobby for many years. He could play an entire orchestral piece on it if he wanted to!

A picture of two horses caught Raivis's eye. The boy gently tugged the paper out of the massive stack. Each horse was colored and shaded with a precise, careful hand, as was the two boys on the horses. It didn't take long for Raivis to realize it was a picture of Toris and Feliks.

He frowned a bit as he plopped down in the nearest seat. Toris was wearing a smile. This had to be from before his parents died. Raivis carefully laid it in the floor beside him and resumed his search. There were a few more from Toris, having something to do with horses, knights, or… a whale? Raivis cocked an eyebrow at the three pictures that had a whale somewhere in it.

In all, there were six. None of them gave him a clue as to what had really happened to him, of course. But each picture was drawn and colored with a child's innocence and a longing for his friend to come home.

Toris had changed so much. These pictures screamed fun and adventure- the very opposite of the Toris Laurinaitis he knew! Raivis folded up the papers and stuffed them in his backpack. It didn't completely bother him that he was stealing, since he was taking them for his brother's sake. If Toris saw these, he might be a little happier!

Raivis faced the three yet again, seriously having second thoughts on coming to the art room. If only these guys could draw pictures like Toris's and not argue over the pettiest things. Personally, Raivis thought all of them were amazing artists. They were definitely better than him.

Raivis slid down in his seat, now hoping more than ever that summer peace would finally come.

((((()))))

"Hey, did we just pass Thirteenth Street?"

Natalya jerked awake at the question. She rubbed her eyes and faced Alfred, face alit with excitement. "What's so important about Thirteenth Street?" she asked, flipping open her phone to see if she'd gotten any messages from Ivan. Natalya frowned to see that he still hadn't said anything. When neither Katyusha nor Ivan came to pick her up from work, Natalya had gone frantic with worry. What if something terrible had happened? She had to get home!

Of course, being the hero, Alfred decided to be a gentleman and offer her a ride. Now, however, the gentleman act was completely gone, replaced with his usual childlike smile. "My dad said there was a haunted house down here. Want to check it out?"

"You mean, will I come with you so you won't cry like a little girl when the wind blows?" Natalya translated. She looked down at her phone, then back to Alfred's puppy eyes. "You're such a baby. We spend no more than ten minutes there. I need to make sure Ivan is okay!"

Alfred swung the truck around, slinging her over to the door. He punched the air victoriously and floored it. Natalya had a death grip on his arm and on the door handle, eyes wide and teeth clenched as they raced past silent, quaint houses. Suddenly, Alfred jerked on the brakes, whipping her forward. The seatbelt violently jerked her back against the seat. "Alfred Kirkland, I am going to _kill_-"

"This has to be it!" he interrupted, jumping outside. Natalya swallowed her threat and got out herself, trying not to puke all over the grass. Alfred's driving was worse than any rollercoaster.

Natalya looked up at the looming house, unimpressed. There was nothing spooky about this place. Arthur probably told Alfred about it to preoccupy him for a while. She knew he saved all the _truly _haunted places for her, Tavian, and Nikolaus to know about. The four of them had gone on plenty of paranormal adventures behind Alfred's back.

Alfred stopped at the mailbox, squinting down at it. "It's pretty faded. That means no one will care if…." He withdrew a Sharpie from his pocket and started scribbling like a mad man.

"Defacing public property is against the law," Natalya blandly reminded him. She let out a sigh to see he wrote in "Kirkland". Leaving him to doodle, Natalya walked up to the door. It was locked, but she found the windows were not. Just experimenting, she raised one. Alfred popped up beside her, sticking his head in. "Looks like it's empty. Want to look inside? And, technically, we won't be charged with breaking and entering since this place has my name on it."

Before she could ask, he pointed inside. Over the fireplace read "Alfred" in dulled letters. "Kinda creepy," he admitted.

Natalya absently nodded, hiking her leg over the edge. "Push me in," she instructed. "Do not let the window drop!"

Besides the faint light drifting in on the fireplace, the room was nearly pitch black inside. Natalya stopped Alfred from following her. "Find a flashlight. I'm not letting you in here with me unless I can see, or unless Grigori pops up."

"Fine, fine."

She turned back to the fireplace, slightly frowning. Stupid Toris Laurinaitis had called her just a few days ago talking about a haunted house that wasn't haunted. He told her Feliks had gotten the bright idea for them all to visit it. However, the place smelled terrible- and then Natalya hung up on him.

This house didn't smell awful, but it was still supposedly haunted. Was this the place Toris and Feliks were talking about?

"I've got the flashlight!" Alfred announced, clambering inside. He propped the window open with an old board from outside. Natalya took it and pointed it to the fireplace for a better view. Sure enough, Alfred was written on the mantle. Natalya wiped away some of the dust

Any speck of fear in Alfred seemed to float out the window. He grabbed Natalya's hand and put on a smile. "That's awesome! Come on, let's snoop! Maybe this other Alfred was a thief, and he hid tons of cash here! Maybe his wife killed him for it all, but she never found it and left! WAIT, THAT WOULD MEAN HE WAS BURIED HERE."

Natalya smacked him. "Stop screaming in my ear! No one died here, Alfred. I know it's difficult for you, but try not to be such an idiot?"

"Aw, come on," he whined, taking sudden right, towards the staircase. "You gotta have fun sometimes, right? Where's that sense of adventure?"

"Back home, where I should be," she stressed. Alfred helpfully ignored her.

Upstairs was much creepier than below. The wallpaper wilted over, hanging down from walls. Natalya noticed Alfred inch closer to her with each step. She had a feeling she would have to carry him out of the place. Such a baby…. The carpet below their feet was thick with dust and stiff from age. Alfred again took a sudden turn, barging into a random room. Natalya pointed the flashlight around every inch, proving to Alfred that there were no monsters. He finally released his death-grip on her arm and walked inside.

The room didn't look the happiest. The windows were foggy and dirty, and half of the wallpaper lay on the floor. "These people should have done a better job with their walls," Natalya muttered, kneeling down to finger it. "It's not too old. The glue is just crappy. What kind of haunted house did you say this was, again?"

"What _kind?_" he burst. "There are _kinds _of haunted houses?"

Natalya rolled her eyes. Did he just think houses that were old and abandoned were immediately haunted? Ugh. She was just wasting her time here. But she had to admit this _was _a bit adventurous. Natalya couldn't say this was the first time she broke into a house (it was nothing compared to what the _others _had done on that trip to the beach), but this one held so much potential. A mystery was just bound to pop up any second-

"Hey, can I borrow the flashlight a minute? I think there's something over here in the closet."

Ah, and there it was. Natalya and Alfred leaned into the closet, shining the light on the cramped space. Sure enough, in the farthest corner lay an old videotape. After Natalya assured him there were no boogeyman about to grab at him, Alfred carefully retrieved it, blowing off dust. "'September 17, 1987'," he read. Alfred hummed lowly, stuffing it in his jacket. "Maybe Mr. Dead-Guy Alfred had a secret camcorder rolling when his wife murdered him. This could be proof!"

Natalya cocked an eyebrow. "That would be… interesting. Here, look around and see if you find anything else. I'll have a look at this thing."

She left him to cower alone by the closet and walked over to the window, looking at the tape by moonlight. This was dated almost twenty-five years ago, and the handwriting was unlike any she had seen- it was so messy, but at the same time almost elegant to an extent. Almost like Arthur's, she supposed, but not as neat.

Her eyes went wide. Arthur knew the address to this place. "Alfred" was on the fireplace. As far as she knew, Alfred was the only Kirkland with that name, but she couldn't be for sure. Getting Arthur to talk about his family was as hard as getting Alfred to choose a salad over a Big Mac. Still… maybe this could have been the house Arthur grew up in. Maybe he recorded this tape!

A sudden chill ran down her spine. Natalya looked up to the window. Just barely, she could see another face in the window. She turned around, but Alfred was the only other person in the room, cowering in the corner, eyes darting around. Natalya sighed, waving for him to leave. If Alfred's cowardly attitude was starting to rub off on her, she had definitely stayed in here too long.

"Take this home and watch it," Natalya instructed as she took Alfred's hand. Just to calm his nerves, of course! She couldn't have him driving if he was too shook up over a lonely, dark room. Natalya pushed him out the window ahead of her, so he could catch her as she came out. She cast one last look to the fireplace, sending a frown at the familiar name. If there was a chance this was Arthur's old home, just what would be on that video? None of the Kirkland's seemed eager to record a family video together, unless it was to tape a particularly interesting fight.

Alfred paused a moment after he got in the truck. With trembling lips, he faced Natalya. "If I can't sleep tonight, can I call you? I'm staying with Mom tonight, and she doesn't stay up late."

"No. Now suck it up. You're seventeen years old, so learn to act your age," she growled, once again flipping open her phone. Natalya muttered a curse to see there still was no word from Ivan. If something had happened to him and Alfred had made her goof off….

But she still had to admit it was just a _little _fun.


	11. Chapter 11

**Well. School has officially started, and I'm taking three AP classes, Chemistry, Pre-Calc, and Spanish IV. I also have the worst English teacher ever. That kinda means I'll have zero time to work on **_**anything **_**in my soon-to-be nonexistent free time, so this will probably be the last chapter for a long time. I'll try and work on the weekends, but I can't make any promises that chapters will come regularly. Sorry.**

**Also, I SAW THE LUDDY-MOBILE. I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING. I was going home from school, and I saw this huge, old white van. It was a Club Wagon XL if anyone wants to see what the Luddy-Mobile really looks like. You can google "hot Italian cars" to find Lovino's. XD**

**Chapter 11-**

"_Hey hey hey! Remove your Frenchie butt from my car hood!" Brandon chided as the camcorder began rolling. Francis hopped off of the Impala as fast as he could. Brandon pointed him back inside his house. Inside the door stood Gilbert, mouth full of bratwurst. Brandon rolled his eyes at the sight. "Chew with your mouth closed, Mini-Awesome."_

"_Why're you so whiny today?" Gilbert responded, purposely opening his mouth wide._

_Behind the camcorder, Elizabeta trilled, "That is disgusting, Gilbert. And who said you could come outside yet? We're not finished!"_

_Gilbert let out his own whine. Elizabeta must have given him her signature I'm-going-to-kill-you-Gilbert glares, for he quickly shut his mouth and followed Francis back inside the recesses of the house. Elizabeta faced Brandon once more. From the trunk of his car he retrieved a large black and white bow. "Roddy!" Brandon called. "Stand guard! Keep Gilbert, Francis, _and _Antonio away."_

_After he too had left, Brandon placed the bow on top of his car._

"_Are you sure about this, Brandon?" Elizabeta asked, following him around to the side of the car._

_Brandon nodded, poking his head through the open window. The interior of the car was nearly spotless, vacuumed and scrubbed until the age was almost completely washed away. The blue paint had also been touched up and polished, making the Impala shine more than ever. Finally, after seeing nothing out of place during his inspection, Brandon withdrew a card from his jacket. Elizabeta gave it a good look before Brandon laid it in the driver's seat._

_It was a piece of folded cardstock. _Mini-Awesome _was scribbled on the front in Brandon's messy script. She could only guess what was inside. What she couldn't guess was how Gilbert was going to react to all of this._

_As a _hey-I'm-going-to-college-and-stuff-now _present, Brandon was giving Gilbert his car._

_His beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala._

"_I think I'm starting to question your sanity," Elizabeta said at long last. A sad smile laced through her words, bringing a frown to Brandon's face. "Now, don't give me that! I've already promised to take care of Gilbert. I will not hit him with any more frying pans until you come back to defend him."_

_Brandon reached out, probably to pat her shoulder. "I'm not too worried about him. Gilbert's a strong kid. But thanks. You should find someone to look out for you, too. Not that I'm saying you're a damsel in distress or something!" he quickly added, eyes momentarily widening in fear._

_When Elizabeta didn't lunge for his neck, Brandon exhaled in relief. Behind the two, the sky was starting to darken. Brandon turned to see the shadows creeping up on them. "We better get ready for whatever plans Gilbert has for _us."

_He walked back inside, hollering the okay for them to come down now. Gilbert zoomed past him. Gilbert nearly passed out. Luckily, Gilbert had Francis and Antonio to keep him from falling. Elizabeta grandly presented it to him, keeping the camcorder trained on Brandon to catch his soft smile. When it turned back to Gilbert, he sat in the driver's seat, completely floored. He put his hands on the wheel._

_Gilbert was out of the car before a word could be uttered. "The awesomeness emanating from that car is almost too much to bear. I'll see to it later."_

_He waved along Francis and Antonio, mentioning something about calling the others over. Roderich, beside Elizabeta, let out a tired sigh. His exhausted face came into view. Elizabeta smoothed back the one strand of hair that had fallen in his face. "Are you sure you're up to this tonight? You had a long show this morning."_

"_This is the last time I'll get to see Brandon until Christmas," Roderich explained, running a hand through his hair. Every inch of him breathed weary. His posture wasn't as rim rod straight as usual, and his glasses sat far down his nose. Overworked couldn't even begin to describe Roderich._

_Elizabeta turned the camcorder towards them both, swinging an arm across his shoulders. "Here's another promise, then! I'll take care of you too, Roddy. Maybe you'll actually appreciate me, unlike Herr Dipstick in there."_

_As she turned the camcorder back around to turn it off, it momentarily landed on Brandon, giving the two a grin._

((((()))))

"_Vati_, seriously. I'm going to be late for school, and I'm not leaving until you're up."

Gilbert pulled the covers back over his face, trying his hardest to keep from straying into complete consciousness. Why was Ludwig being such a jerk? If he wanted to sleep in for once, Gilbert would sleep in, darn it! "You've got an awesome van or you can catch the bus," he mumbled.

Ludwig ripped the blanket away, scowling down at his father's pout. Why was Gilbert acting extra-insufferable lately? He was usually up before Ludwig to walk the dogs and fix breakfast, since Helda worked early. With a frown of his own, Ludwig put the back of his hand to Gilbert's forehead. "What are you doing?" Gilbert groaned, smacking him away. "I'm not sick, I'm just _tired._ It is normal for people to occasionally want to stay in bed, Luddy."

"But not you," he stubbornly pressed. Ludwig forced himself not to look at his watch, knowing full well he was going to break his record of getting to school on time. He could already see Feliciano running around, freaking out. Every morning Feliciano accompanied him to his locker to tell him a story Ludwig usually ignored. At least he still had Lovino to annoy.

With a lengthy dramatic sigh meant to grate Ludwig's nerves into nonexistence, Gilbert sat up. "Fine, whatever. I'll walk the dogs. Go to school and learn some brain surgeon stuff, okay?"

"You act like a moody teenage girl," Ludwig muttered, shouldering his backpack. And it was true, too. Not just lately, but _always_, his father had to put up this act. It made Ludwig wonder how Brandon ever put up with him. Unless, of course, Gilbert started acting like a brat after he died, disappeared, or whatever happened to him.

His sarcastic goodbye froze in his throat.

_What am I thinking? _Vati _lost his brother when he went to college. After this summer… that'll be me._

Ludwig hated his stupid voice of reason. It never allowed him to stay angry for very long- especially when it came to Gilbert and Feliciano, the two who always made him feel like punching a wall. Still, he had to thank the stupid voice. Despite all the irritation it gave him, it kept him from doing and saying equally stupid things. Stupid things… like calling his father a girl. Which was quite _true_, but still not the nicest.

Before Ludwig could force a tight apology, Gilbert paused in buttoning his shirt. He bit his lip pensively a moment. "I've… been a good br- father, right? Like, when you guys leave and stuff, think you'll want to come back sometime?"

"…Wh-what?"

Just as quickly as the chink in his armor had appeared, Gilbert waved away Ludwig's stutter. "For your mom, of course!" he burst, prancing over to the door. "Helda's crazy with worry, you know? Such a worry-wart. Anywho, you better get yourself going. Senior skip-day is next _Monday_, not today! You've probably got Feli in tears by now, Luddy!"

Gilbert grabbed hold of his shoulders and commenced shoving him down the hall. Ludwig rolled his eyes and politely peeled his fingers away. His voice of reason screamed at him to keep his mouth shut and march downstairs like a good little soldier. By the time Ludwig had made it out to the Luddy-Mobile, Gilbert was already tangled up in dog leashes and shouting his goodbyes, grin as wide and bright as ever.

Ludwig really needed to sit down and have a talk with that man.

((((()))))

Lili slightly frowned, finally noting the distinct vacancy of the seat beside hers in Chemistry. She blinked uncertainly, seeing no Ludwig. Cautiously, she reached out and poked the air, as if to assure herself Ludwig hadn't turned invisible while she wasn't looking.

She started to panic just a little when she didn't touch invisible skin.

"Natalya," Lili whispered, leaning forward to catch the blonde's attention. "You haven't seen Ludwig, have you?"

The Russian girl turned with a bland gaze. Lili suddenly remembered she didn't exactly like Ludwig, for whatever reason. Then again, it was rare to find someone Natalya _did _like. Besides liking Lili, Natalya only loved her siblings and Alfred. However, she vehemently denied remotely liking the latter. Natalya shrugged. "No. Have you seen Alfred?"

Ah. That explained the _other _weird feeling she had. Alfred also was not present in his seat- and neither was Emil, when she gave the class a good look. Emil and Alfred missing wasn't such a big deal. They often dragged in late, bearing the excuse of sleeping-in due to Samantha and Abel's antics the previous night. But Ludwig did not come in late. If Ludwig was late, the world was about to end.

"There you are," Natalya snapped. Lili lifted her terrorized gaze to see Alfred dragging himself over to his seat. Both girls watched with slight apprehension as he smacked his forehead on his desk. Natalya recovered first and lightly shook his shoulder. "You're still in your pajamas."

"I shouldn't have bothered changing into them last night," Alfred mumbled, face still planted to the desk. "I didn't get any sleep."

"You're such a baby."

"Last night was _scary_, okay? And that stupid tape is driving me nuts because Mom doesn't have a VCR and I need to know if it's the murder or not!" Alfred cried, grabbing at his hair. He let out a groan, finally sitting up. His eyes were bloodshot behind his crooked glasses. "I drank an entire pot of coffee this morning. If I fall asleep in class again, Dad is going to kill me."

Lili quickly butted in. "Um," she worriedly started, "what kind of tape are you talking about? And a m-murder?"

Alfred rubbed his eyes. "We checked out this haunted house- the one you guys went to, right? Freaking creepy, man! My name was engraved into the fireplace mantle. All the wallpaper was ripped to shreds, and I _swear_, it felt like something was staring at me the entire time we were upstairs."

Natalya's face suddenly got paler. She cleared her throat and preoccupied herself with skimming over her homework. Lili turned back to Alfred. She furrowed her eyebrows. "That does sound scary. But Alfred… the house we went to didn't have a fireplace."

He froze mid-yawn. Alfred gaped a moment, then swallowed hard. "B-but, it was the big empty two-story house on Thirteenth Street. I gave you the directions and everything!"

"No," Lili said, "our haunted house was on _Twelfth_ Street, and it had _three _stories."

Alfred's eyes were on the verge of bugging out of his head. Natalya whipped her head around, panic on her face. "Wait a minute, then what house did we break into last night?" Her face melded back into its normal scowl. "Alfred, did you bring the tape with you this morning?"

He nodded. "It's in my locker. I was going to stay after school and watch it in the library."

Mrs. Desrosiers walked into class, cuing them to go quiet. She cocked an eyebrow at Alfred's appearance, but was smart enough to not ask. Lili gave Ludwig's empty seat one last glance before pulling out her book

She really wished Lovino hadn't dropped Chemistry when he learned he might have a chance of being in class with Ludwig. Sometimes she just wanted to smack him a couple times. Honestly, what was with those two? Why couldn't they get over whatever petty feud they had ages ago that grew into such an immense hatred (and severe annoyance, in Ludwig's case)?

Even though she was lonely without Ludwig and Emil, Lili couldn't help the small, serene smile from popping up on her face. She carefully pulled out a notebook and flipped to the next clean page. So far, she had filled up nearly inch of free space. Notes and plans were all over the place. Most had already been scribbled over, having been accomplished over the past three years. There was still much to do, however, and finding a way to make Lovino and Ludwig friends was going to be the hardest.

But Lili had to do it. Her time to fix things was drawing to a close, and she wasn't sure if she would have a second chance to do what she couldn't get around to.

She caught the silent tear rolling down her cheek before anyone could take notice.

"You're late?"

Lili looked up at her teacher's exclamation. A madly blushing Ludwig practically shoved his admit slip at her. Once Mrs. Desrosiers resumed her lesson, which no one in particular paid attention to, Lili heard Ludwig mutter, "Alfred, your appearance is breaking about seven school rules right now."

"Yeah, well, when you pull a freaking all-nighter, you really don't care about stupid rules," he growled. Apparently the early morning coffee had was starting to wear off. If they didn't get Alfred more caffeine, mass murder was likely to occur. Unless they found Kiku. The boy had an uncanny ability to instantly brighten an un-caffeinated Alfred's day.

"They explored a second haunted house on the next street from ours and found a mysterious video tape inside," Lili explained.

Ludwig instantly brightened. His lips almost made a grin. "Maybe that was Arthur's house. Lili, did Lovino or Feliciano tell you about the video?"

"Dad's house?" Alfred asked, momentarily pausing his homicidal thoughts. He shook his head. "That couldn't have been his place. 'Alfred' was engraved onto the fireplace."

"What if he knew another Alfred? Do you think this one was an uncle or something?"

All four rolled their eyes. Arthur hated pretty much everyone in his family. He never would have named Alfred after someone he was related to. Arthur wasn't cruel.

Everything was explained in hushed tones, completely unnoticed by Mrs. Desrosiers and her overly enthusiastic lecture. Lili recounted her kidnapping, and Ludwig told the lovely story of how he sort of broke a floor.

Alfred interrupted after the part with the floor. "Hold up. Why were Feliks and Toris there, again? And you never said why you think our house was Dad's."

Ludwig shrugged. "Tavian, I suppose. As for that… I'd like to watch the video you found first. The date coincides with Brandon, and the house's location appears to be the same of Arthur's house in that first video."

"Brandon? Who the heck is Brandon?"

Mrs. Desrosiers cut herself off, tossing Alfred a glare. "I'm reviewing the exam you'll be taking next week, so I'd advise you to pay attention, Alfred."

He gave a wilted nod. "Yes, Ma'am."

"I'll explain in lunch. No, better yet, Feli can explain it. He and Lovino know everything."

From the way he said it, Lili wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

((((()))))

Toris hadn't been paying much attention to anything at their lunch table, set off in the corner of the room closest to the door. When Feliks revealed his plans to wear a neon pink dress to graduation, Toris had zoned out. Ludwig and Feli seemed to be telling some kind of story, but Toris didn't quite care. Ever since the floor incident and Feliks's freak out afterwards, Toris found it difficult to truly care about anything. The way Feliks wanted to be blamed… it wasn't right. It didn't matter if he thought Anelie died because of him. Toris wasn't about to let him blame himself for something so trivial.

He had already seen what happens when one blamed oneself, and he knew Feliks would crumble from heavy thoughts like that. Toris didn't want Feliks to turn into another him.

It had really gotten him thinking- Feliks, the house, the way Ludwig had stared at that picture. Feliks would definitely be remembered in Heta as the craziest kid to ever walk the streets. The house would always be thought of as haunted. That picture of a blonde man had survived the dust and age of the house obviously meant something to Ludwig.

What about Toris? Who would remember him, besides his "family", once he left Heta? Not that it particularly mattered, of course. After this summer, Toris planned to leave Heta forever. He hated the town. It was impossible for him to hate the people there, but the way he looked at certain buildings and certain streets slammed a weight on his chest, threatening to buckle his knees and send him crashing down.

It didn't matter that everything had happened six years ago. He still remembered walking to the store with Mom and Dad, or going on family fishing trips, or this and that…. Every memory ripped him apart little by little. Even though Toris's life plummeted when he went across the country to live with different people, he didn't have to deal with the awful nostalgia Heta threw at him.

Feliks, despite everything he had gone through, was lucky.

"And all these years, none of your parents have mentioned this man?"

Toris snapped to attention, turning to Natalya. He could have sworn his heart skipped one or two beats. The beautiful blonde did not acknowledge his presence, looking to Ludwig with the adorable scowl she always wore on her face. Toris couldn't help the sappy grin from popping up on his face. He faked a yawn to cover it up.

Everyone shook their heads. Matthew caught himself. "Actually," he quietly started, "I think…. Hmm."

"What?" Alfred pressed, poking his shoulder.

"Um, when you were a-at the hospital. Your Grandma came by, and Ivan told her about the Russian Jack Frost, Morozko. She said the step-mother was like Samantha and Aria, then she said the girl who stood up to Morozko was like Wilhelm's oldest son. Arthur said his name was Brandon," Matthew said, frown deepening. He slowly shook his head. "I can't believe I didn't catch that."

"We were a little preoccupied at the time," Natalya said, tossing Alfred a look that nearly shattered Toris's heart. Toris forced himself to look away before any more of his dreams were crushed.

Matthew suddenly perked up. "And at Papa's wedding, too! When he got Arthur drunk, Arthur asked where Brandon was at. Apparently he was-"

"-the drummer in their band," Ludwig finished.

Feli, mouth full of pasta, smiled. "'Ow 'bout choo guys-" he swallowed "-go look for him on your trip?"

Everyone turned to Kiku, who had been paying about as much attention as Toris had. Toris followed his concerned look to another table where Yong Soo, Bong Chung, and Ivan sat alone. Alfred wasted no time in redirecting his attention to their story.

Toris zoned out once more, focusing on the trio. Yong Soo was doing all of the talking, but his usual excitement was subdued. There was still a smile on his face, but it was a little odd.

"Like, hellooooooo, earth to Liet!" Feliks sang, jabbing his bony finger into Toris's shoulder. Upon successfully getting his attention, Feliks asked, "Can you, like, believe all this? Thinking they're gonna drag me to _Germany_? Heck no. I'm, like, _Polish._ That would totes be a slap to my ancestors."

"Now you decide to pay attention to history class?" Toris weakly joked, seeing Feliks's eyes fill with a fire that wasn't something to be taken lightly. The brunette took a long sigh. "Look, Pol. This is, apparently, Gilbert's brother we're talking about. What if you lost the most important person in the world to you, but there was a chance they might still be out there?"

Feliks's eyes went wide, filled with a hollow terror. Toris felt like smacking his mouth. "Pol, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," he quietly said, swallowing hard. Without another word, he got up to take his tray away, completely ignoring the pirozhki he had forgotten to eat.

What was wrong with him? What made Toris blurt something out like that, knowing that Feliks's most important person had no chance of ever coming back? He sighed, dropping his face in his hands. Always screwing things up. Every time something good happened to him, Toris found a way to mess it all up.

_I'm sorry, but I really don't like green tea. Could we please go someplace else? I haven't eaten meat in months._

_I promise I'm trying as hard as I can. I just can't make an A in Math class. Do you think you could help me?_

_I know I can't play soccer well- I already told you, I don't really like sports. I like reading and drawing._

_I know I promised to call you before you got on the plane, Mom, but Eduard and I stayed up late, and I forgot. I'm sorry. And Dad- I'm sorry we didn't get to watch that movie because I had homework. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Come back and let me apologize-_

When he raised his head, he met eyes with Natalya. For once, she didn't immediately break eye contact and spit out a remark that insulted him. Not that Toris ever minded, really. In a sense, she was still acknowledging his presence, and that was all he could hope for. Now, if she would just acknowledge _more _of his presence….

"Well?" Natalya impatiently snapped.

"Wh-what?"

She exasperatedly sighed. "I told you, he's too stupid to pay attention. Are you going to Europe with them or not?"

Toris looked back to Feliks- conveniently avoided the table by stopping to comment on how cute Michelle and Tao looked together. He found his head nodding on its own. "Yeah. Yeah, we'll go to Europe."

_I'll get you back to Poland, and I'll never come back here._

((((()))))

Brandon wasted the last few minutes of business dusting around his flower shop. His _manly _and _awesome _flower shop. Chicks stopped by all the time to admire him! Brandon even got their numbers and gave them flowers- but they paid for it and gave it away, since, sadly, he _was _running a flower shop and all.

The sun was nearly set, hidden behind the city buildings, casting long shadows over the busy world outside. More people rode bikes than cars- one thing he still had to get used to, since everyone in Heta had had a car. Brandon used to have a 1967 Chevy Impala, his pride and joy. He paused his cleaning for a moment, thinking back to the last time he had seen it. Before he left for Germany, obviously.

The room seemed to grow colder as he remembered the bow, the card, the look on Gilbert's face….

"Hello? Are you still open?"

Brandon snapped to attention at the English bombarding his ears. Standing in the doorway was a thin boy with pristine blonde hair, blue eyes, and a face carbon copy to Brandon's, Gilbert's, and their father's. If Brandon did know any better, he would swear this kid was a Beilschmit. "If I'm here, I guess I am," Brandon replied, shaking his hand. The kid couldn't be more than fourteen, dressed in a thin black sweater and dark pants. He didn't have the usual school-boy-crush look, so Brandon assumed he wasn't here to get flowers for his girlfriend.

The boy flashed a brief smile, scanning the walls, mentally picking through the bouquets already made up. Not by Brandon, of course, because flower arranging was too feminine for his like. He had an assistant. An assistant that happened to be invisible.

Feeling like he was five years old, Brandon picked up a lovely bouquet of Edelweiss. "If you can't decide on something, might I suggest these? You can't go wrong with Edelweiss."

He took the flowers, studying them with a critical eye. Brandon leaned against the front window, slightly smirking. For some reason, he liked this kid. It was obvious he wasn't from Luxembourg. Probably a tourist. "Edelweiss means 'noble white'," he murmured at last.

Brandon blinked. More family flashbacks popped up into his head. He struggled to push them away from his thoughts. "Flower fan?"

"No," he shook his head, fishing for his wallet. "I speak German. Um, do you have a card I could put in this?"

"Sure. What do you want me to write on it?" Brandon led him over to the cash register. He snatched up all of the tiny cards he had- some had prewritten sappy messages, others had condolences and get well soon wishes, while a few were blank.

"First of all, these are for my parents. My father forgot today was his anniversary, so I'm making up for his mistake." The boy paused, giving Brandon time to chuckle. The kid looked like he was used to getting that reaction. The poor man must have either been very busy or very forgetful. "Their names are Roderich and Elizabeta Edelstein."

Brandon dropped the stack of cards and his pen. The tiny slips of cardstock scattered everywhere, floating down. Brandon snapped his head up. No words would come out of his mouth. Instead, he reached out and grabbed the very stunned boy's shoulders. When he finally discovered his vocal chords were working again, Brandon stuttered, "That wasn't supposed to happen! She was supposed to marry Gilbert!"

Heilrich flinched back. "Gilbert? You know Uncle Gilbert? Wait a minute, who are_ you_?"

"I'm Brandon Beilschmit! Who are you?" he frantically shouted

"Heilrich Edelstein!" the boy called back.

Brandon went catatonic for another moment. Heilrich was hopelessly confused. The first thought in Brandon's head was, _Well, this is awkward._

((((()))))

"...But that's impossible. He can't be dead. Brandon would never..."

Feliciano's lips quivered, eyes ready to spill over with tears. Arthur, in this video, had to be wrong. In every video Feli had watched with Ludwig, Brandon had looked so happy. He definitely wasn't the kind of person to want to kill himself. Arthur had to be wrong! All of them were! Feli knew that Brandon was out there somewhere- why else would they have found those videos? There had to be a reason. Feli knew they were supposed to find Brandon and bring him back home.

Right?

Trying to keep himself from breaking down into tears, which would only make Ludwig feel even worse, Feliciano looked to everyone's faces, catching their shocked expressions. Alfred, however, didn't look sad in the least. He looked at the library's old carpet, frowning in deep thought. Beside him, Natalya quickly cleared her face. "Well, now we know. All of this was for nothing."

"It wasn't for _nothing,_" Matthew said softly. He bit his lip. "Maybe... maybe we're supposed to figure out what happened to him?"

"Why?" Lovino burst. "The guy's been dead for over twenty years. Obviously everyone's over it by now."

Before Feli could stop himself, he snapped, "Not Gilbert." When Lovino gaped, Feliciano realized his face was melded into one of anger. He muttered an apology. He had no idea where the growl had even come from. Feliciano never yelled at his brother! Only Lovino yelled, but Feli knew he never really meant it. Every time Lovino pushed him or fussed at him, it never amounted to anything more than some slightly dampened feelings. Lovino cared about him too much to ever hurt him.

Feliciano knew Brandon was the same. No matter what was going on in the videos, Brandon always looked out for Gilbert. He even faced an angry Elizabeta to save Gilbert! Someone like that couldn't possibly throw everything away like that!

He took a deep breath and carefully began, "It's just... if something happened to you, _Fratello,_ I'd never get over it for the rest of my life. Every day I'd wonder where you went and why you never came back home. No matter what anyone told me, I'd still think you were somewhere out there. It wouldn't matter if I was being rational or not! So even if Brandon is dead, don't we owe Gilbert?"

"Anyone who would do that to their little brother doesn't any kindness. Telling Gilbert the truth would be the worst thing we could ever do. Telling him that, yeah, his brother really is dead, and he's been deluding himself all this time? Get a brain, _Fratellino_." Lovino stopped to give everyone a scowl, daring them to try and disagree with him. He turned away, pulling Feli along behind him. "Let's go home and forget this crap."

Feliciano gave Ludwig one last pleading look. Ludwig had to agree with him. But Ludwig didn't try to speak out against Lovino. No one did, and no one met his eyes, save Lili, giving him the most pitying stare before gathering up her things to also leave. Alfred silently took the tape in his hands. Without a word, he snapped it in two.

The first tear escaped Feli's eye. After it came more and more until Lovino finally stopped to give him a hug and apologize. Of course, he wasn't apologizing for saying that, but rather for shattering Feliciano's hope. No matter what Feliciano thought, he wasn't their Pandora's box. Hope and praying for a miracle were two very different things.

Still, Feli refused to believe that.


	12. Chapter 12

**ARGH, Human Geography gets on my nerves. So does US History. The time I finally get in the mood to write is when they dump me with homework. Grr. So if at any time this chapter sounds like an essay, forgive me. By the way, I know this is an awfully busy chapter. You have no idea how the creative bug slams into you when you're forcing yourself to work on boring homework. XD**

**Chapter 12-**

"_Hello, one and all! You have reached the awesome voicemail recording of the awesome Gilbert Beilschmit! Unfortunately, I'm either not in right now I'm ignoring you because you're Elizabeta calling to threaten me again or you're Roderich- I'm ignoring you because you're just too unawesome to even acknowledge. Anyways, if you're not those two, I'm out partying or whatever. Luddy and Helda must have come with me if they didn't pick up. They're almost as awesome as me, and Ludwig really knows how to par-"_

_A second voice, slightly irritated, broke into his cackle. "_Vati_, no one is going to wait that long to hear a beep."_

"_Says you!" Gilbert's voice cried out. "People love my awesome voice!"_

"_End the recording, _Vati_!"_

"_No! Hey, don't touch-"_

_*beep*_

Heilrich quickly recovered from his initial shock- one would think he would remember the obnoxious message Gilbert had recorded, but it smacked him in the face every time he heard it. The boy looked for Brandon's okay, mentally asking if he honestly wanted this to be done. When Brandon gave a small nod, Heilrich cleared his throat. Pitching his voice lower, Heilrich began, "Hello, my name is…-"

"Sebastiaan," Brandon offered in a numbed whisper. His eyes were trained on something far away, something Heilrich couldn't hope to see. He had no doubt now- Brandon really was Gilbert's brother.

"My name is Sebastiaan. I'm calling from the Luxembourgish flower shop you ordered thirty bouquets of Edelweiss from? Your payment is three months overdue and your flowers are dead. Thank you for your time."

Heilrich quietly put the phone back on the receiver, casting a cautious glance to Brandon. It just occurred to him that there might have been a good reason Heilrich was never told about him. What if Brandon did something terrible, then ran away to cover it up, but was found out, and they disowned him? Heilrich mentally slapped himself. Ugh, he spent _way _too much time talking to Feliciano. Speaking of which, he needed to tell Feliciano! With his help, they could get Brandon back to America and, more importantly, back to Gilbert!

Though Heilrich figured he ought to inform his mother and father about this first. Roderich could give him the whole story, and Elizabeta would know just what to do.

Brandon seemed to have the same idea: "R-Roddy and Lizzie are here in town, aren't they?"

"They're at the Théâtre des Capucins," Heilrich explained, reaching for the phone again. Roderich's show was about to end, so they could come here and meet Brandon. He hesitated another moment, unsure if this really was a good idea. If Brandon had done something terrible and Heilrich's parents hated him, it would be the worst anniversary gift ever.

Heilrich quickly paid for the flowers first.

Elizabeta sounded only a little flustered when she picked up her phone. Heilrich could hear Roderich playing the last few notes of a song- hopefully his last. "Uh, hi, _Mutti._ As you've probably guessed, I didn't go to the gift shop."

"Honey, you always buy flowers on our anniversary," Elizabeta quietly chuckled, barely audible over the roaring flood of applause.

Heilrich let out a sigh. Don't get him wrong- he liked classical music just as much as anyone else. But being the only kid caught dead in one of Roderich's concerts? It wasn't as fun as one might expect. Thus, Heilrich didn't just sneak off to get flowers. "Yeah," he said. "But, um, at the flower shop, I think I met someone who knows you and _Vati._ His name is Brandon? Brandon _Beilschmit?_"

The other line was suddenly nothing but whistles and dying applause. A heartbeat later, he heard the dial tone.

"I think they're coming," Heilrich unnecessarily announced to a Brandon who suddenly looked terrified. After receiving such a reaction from Elizabeta, Heilrich knew he had every right to be scared to death. His mother's wrath was not something pretty. Heilrich had seen Gilbert plenty of times with an enormous knot on his head from a frying pan Elizabeta stole from the kitchen. It was a miracle he hadn't procured a concussion yet.

"_Mein Gott,_" Brandon muttered. "I better call Sebastiaan to tell him to make arrangements for my funeral."

((((()))))

The radio was blaring out a song neither Lovino nor Feliciano bothered to listen to. While the former sat fuming in the driver's seat, doing well over the speed limit through town, the latter sullenly bit his lip. "You have a soccer match tomorrow, right?" Lovino finally asked, voice nearly snatched away by the warm summer air.

"Yeah," Feli said simply, fingers tapping the bright red door of Lovino's Ferrari.

Lovino swallowed the biting remark. A sulking Feli was the worst kind of Feli. He pushed down on the gas, completely ignoring the little indicator screaming at him to slow down. Lovino didn't care- he wasn't stupid enough to run into anything and he had memorized all of Vash's favorite hiding places. Getting a ticket from his girlfriend's father wouldn't be the best thing to discuss at a dinner with the Zwingli's.

Ugh, Lovino hated being the one to have to cheer Feliciano up. But if he didn't have his brother smiling like his usual idiotic self before they got home, Aria and Antonio would spaz. Lovino couldn't handle three hysteric family members at once. "I think I'll fix a pizza tonight, so-"

"If we didn't meet three years ago," Feli interrupted, "would you have ever gone looking for me?"

Not this again.

Lovino let out a sigh. His speedometer went up another five miles per hour. "Feli, he's _dead. _He killed himself twenty-five years ago."

"But would you?" he pressed, finally turning to face him. Lovino easily turned his wide-eyed stare into a grimace. Stupid _Fratellino_, asking him a stupid question like that. Of course he would have! He hated to admit it, but Lovino hadn't stopped loving his brother, even after they were ripped apart from each other. Feli had never known him, but Lovino knew him, and that was all he needed to drive him to find him.

"Don't you think Gilbert feels the same?"

Lovino didn't answer. Even if there was a chance Brandon was alive, why wouldn't he have come back to America? Besides, it wasn't like Lovino had planned to go on their grand adventure after graduation. That was stupid too. He was going to stay home and be with Lili, since Vash outright refused to let her go anywhere with so many of the male gender. If Alice was still here, or if Michelle was just a grade ahead, they might have been able to convince him otherwise. But alas.

The second Lovino parked the Ferrari, Feliciano jumped out. "Tell _Mamma_ and _Papà_ I'm going for a walk."

"I'm not saving any pizza for you," Lovino said in response. Feli shrugged, as if he could care less.

Well, it was true. He _wasn't_ going to save any pizza for him.

Inside, as if purposely set up for him, sat the open laptop on the kitchen counter, Feli's page up with a blinking message in the corner. With Antonio and Aria currently AWOL and Feliciano outside moping, no one would ever know….

_Hey, Feli. We're in the Netherlands with Lars. No, Sebastiaan is not my boyfriend. He's actually my brother. Long story. Anyways, if you can convince the guys to come to Europe, that'd be awesome! I know something really cool! See you there. Tell Lovi I said hi._

Lovino let out a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to kill Sebastiaan.

_Ooh, what kind of really cool something? _he typed back, hearing Feli's voice asking the same question in his head. Was it terrible that he could guess exactly what Feliciano would do in a situation after knowing him just three years? Lovino needed to get some friends. Lili was making him nicer and Feliciano was slowly eating away at his sanity. Alfred was out of the question. Matthew was honestly a little boring, and his little sister freaked Lovino out. No child that could break into a house at age two is normal.

When Alice almost instantly replied, Lovino felt a smile tug at his lips. He needed to talk to Alice again. _I promised Bast I wouldn't tell until you came, but I suppose I can make an exception just this once. Gilbert has a brother living in Luxembourg. His name is Brandon and he's apparently good friends with Lars. I don't know much else. I'll keep you posted._

Luxembourg. How in the world did he get to Luxembourg? And, more importantly, how was he even _alive? _Lovino shook his head. Wrong Brandon. It had to be.

Then again, he was friends with Lars, the most morally-challenged individual Lovino knew. What if he framed the entire thing? What if Lars was the reason everyone fell apart twenty-five years ago? But that wasn't even possible, was it? Lars would have been about fifteen. A fifteen-year-old couldn't plot something so maniacal.

Then again, he had known two scheming ten-year-olds.

_That's amazing! I've got to tell Luddy!_

Lovino swallowed down his cry of disgust. He was going to have to scrub his fingers later for typing such a repulsive thing. Luddy. _Seriously_. The crazy things he did for others' sake….

_NO. Terrible idea. He has no idea Brandon exists. Have you ever heard of him?_

_But he does! We found a box of old videos that had him in them. Luddy thinks he's dead, though. Are you sure it's really Gil's brother? Because we saw a video that Arthur made that said he killed himself._

_What? Are you guys having another adventure without me? Anyway, it's definitely him. How many other Brandon Beilschmits do you know? I don't know about the Arthur thing, but I'm sure he's the real deal. I'll ask Bast for a picture of him to show you. I bet he looks just like Gil. Oh, hey, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you, Lovi. Practice your Feli act, okay?_

Well, darn it. Lovino let out a sigh, snapping the laptop shut. He supposed he should tell his findings to Feli, who would then assure everyone he was right and they were wrong. Feli might even explode into a rainbow.

Since Lovino couldn't stand happy rainbows, he decided to leave his brother alone. Maybe the sulking could actually help him face a little reality. However, it still didn't change that fact that Brandon never came back. Alive or dead, he was still a crappy older brother that didn't deserve any pity from Lovino or anyone else. Anyone that would hurt someone close to them like that-

A sour taste popped up in Lovino's mouth, but he paid it no mind. Feliciano was a strong kid who didn't need to be fed happy-go-lucky thoughts. Lovino knew he only kept the act up so he wouldn't freak anyone out. The worst shade of Feli was his serious side, and Lovino hadn't seen that in three years.

Fists now white and clenched, he forced himself to start working on that pizza.

((((()))))

Feli couldn't help but giggle when, through the kitchen window, he saw Lovino get over himself and use the computer. Honestly, he almost as cyberphobic as Francis. As he sat in the backseat of Lovino's Ferrari, whose top was always down, he caught Lovino's shocked expression. He probably learned Sebastiaan wasn't really the object of his hatred.

He really would have gone on that walk had he not noticed how dark it was getting so quickly. How long had they stayed after school, anyway? It didn't matter, though. How could they just believe Brandon was dead? So what if Arthur said so. He also once thought Samantha would never come back, or that Francis would ever marry again, or that he'd ever see Aria and Feli after so long! Arthur was wrong all the time- why was this time any different?

What really tore at him, though, was how even Ludwig didn't back him up. Feli knew Kiku was too "rational", but Ludwig? Brandon was- _is_- his uncle. Why wouldn't Ludwig agree with him and want to go looking for him?

"Mr. Feli?"

Feliciano let out a yelp at hearing the tiny voice. He whirled around in a panic- only to see Monica, hair in a braid and bangs kept out of her face by two tiny red barrettes. After forcing himself to calm down- no one was sneaking up on him, no one was coming to hurt him- Feli donned a smile. "Hi, Monica!" he said, completely chipper.

She didn't respond but to hoist herself over the car door and into the backseat with him. "You're not happy," she pointed out after settling into a comfy spot. "Smile doesn't mean you're happy. Like Artie."

Now he was being compared with Arthur? That was not a good sign. Feli had to think cheerful thoughts. Thoughts like… bunnies! Feli forced himself to remember the time when he and Heilrich painted bunnies. Aria and Elizabeta were gossiping on the couch behind them and Roderich was in another room, playing his piano and filling the house with a sweet, slow melody. They were ten again, Feliciano laughing as he painted and Heilrich furiously trying to make his art look decent enough for Feliciano's eyes. Feliciano turned around to show Aria. She complimented it and snapped her fingers. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you, Feli!" she had said, grinning so widely. "I'm going to invite a friend over for dinner tomorrow. I think you'll like him. His name is-"

"What do mean, Monica?" Feliciano asked. Of course the "happy" memory he chose would completely backfire on him. He nervously wiped his hands on his pants.

She cocked her head. "You happy smile with you eyes shut."

_Darn it._

Even though Monica couldn't get her basic grammar skills down to pat yet, she was still a brilliant little girl. Feliciano met her unyielding stare with a crumbling smile. Monica reached out and patted his shoulder. "Why you sad?"

"I think I might be all alone again," Feliciano said, averting his eyes from her tiny, rounded face. Geez, what was wrong him, telling all of this to a two-year-old? But it was almost as if he couldn't stop himself. Monica, with all of her astounding toddler intelligence, surely couldn't understand anyway. After all, she had no idea who Marco even was.

Feliciano froze.

This wasn't about him. This was about Brandon.

Monica worriedly molded her features into a grimace. In complete seriousness, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a crumpled playing card. She presented it to Feliciano. "I sorry you think that. Silly Mr. Feli, you no alone 'cause I'm here with you. Present?"

He gingerly took it, hoping and praying his hands wouldn't start shaking. It made no sense how terror still dug its way into him when he dared to think about _him._ He was gone forever! Lovino and _Pap__à_and Arthur had saved him. With them and everyone else around, there was no way Feliciano would ever see him again.

_Arthur thought the same of Samantha._

Feliciano unfolded the card. On it was the Jack of Hearts, scribbled over with brown and green crayons. With a start, Feliciano saw the signature curl and realized it was a picture of him. Monica silently dug out more, unfolding them and pointing out everyone. Francis was the King of Diamonds, Michelle was the Ace of Clubs, and Alfred was the King of Spades. She handed them, one by one to Feliciano. "Here. Now you un-alone."

Crude, lopsided and almost unrecognizable faces beamed up at him. Everyone who refused to side with him, refused to believe him just this once, looked up at him as if nothing was wrong. Then again, nothing was wrong, right? Feliciano needed to find them proof. If he found just one speck of evidence, Ludwig would believe him. Kiku might believe him, too! Then they'd all be like Monica's cards, together and happy. What was Feliciano thinking in the first place, saying he was alone? He wasn't alone. He hadn't been alone for three years, thanks to Heilrich and Lovino.

Everything was better now. Feliciano knew it was. Although Heilrich was gone, and Alice had chosen a new life with her mother and other brother instead of coming back to be with them, things couldn't be better! He still had an entire summer with his friends. If, somehow, he did convince them to go to Germany and look for Brandon, they might see Alice with her new family. Crazier things had happened, after all.

Once the summer ended, however…. Well, Feliciano decided not to think of that. Instead, he threw a hug at Monica, who warmly returned it. "I feel better now, thanks to you!"

Monica proudly beamed. "Good!" She turned back to her house, which was beginning to emanate worried shouts from Francis and Therese. Feli chuckled. Apparently the new childproof locks Francis had invested in couldn't keep out an adventurous Monica.

Before she climbed over him to head back home, Feli caught her. "J-just one thing," he stuttered. "I'm glad you like making everyone happy. It's really nice, Monica. But I want you to make sure _you're _happy first. Sometimes, when you get sad, there won't be anyone to cheer you up."

"Not you?" she asked, blinking owlish eyes.

"Anytime you need a smile you can come to me!" he assured her. "I'm talking about the times when I won't be there, though. You have to keep your head up and think happy thoughts!"

Monica nodded and hiked her leg over the door. She fell to her feet without a sound. Only the top of her head and her waving hand could be seen. Feli watched after her, still grinning as she stealthily slipped inside. Soon the frantic panic died down once more and all was still.

Feliciano's stomach growled, and he suddenly remembered Lovino was making pizza.

He'd start looking for evidence tomorrow.

((((()))))

"You're letting me do _what?_"

Nikolaus's face didn't change in the least. He sat at the end of Emil's bed, eyes locked onto the wall behind his brother rather than his face. Before quietly repeating himself, he took another slow drink of his hot chocolate. "You can leave whenever you want," Nikolaus lightly shrugged. "Cocoa?"

Emil pushed himself up, ignoring his skin's protest. Upon seeing the scrapes, Abel had made himself scarce, further worsening Emil's mood. If Abel was feeling bad, Emil must have really screwed up. Nikolaus, thankfully, had kept most of his mother hen panicking on the inside as he drove them home from Red Flower. "I don't want your cocoa," he blandly snapped. Nikolaus cocked an eyebrow- the expression he donned when he was close to getting miffed. Emil cleared his throat. "No thanks. But… don't you think you should be locking me in my room for eternity? I crashed your bike, Nikolaus."

"While I am _well _aware you landed my pride and joy into a scrap heap," he began with the tiniest hint of an edge that made Emil wince, "I've come to realize this was my fault. I shouldn't have left you alone with Abel. Actually, I probably shouldn't have let you stay with us in the first place. You'd have been happier with Berwald and Tino. They even have a dog."

The dog. Nikolaus was obsessed with Hanatamago since the day he got into Abel's hair gel stash and practically destroyed it. Although the incident almost started a bloody war on Viking level, Nikolaus declared Hanatamago a hero. Blatantly in front of Abel's face, of course.

"But the thing is, I'm _here _and not _there_. They went to do their thing, I decided to stay here with you and Abel. Probably against my better judgment, yes. Don't think this was your fault, though. I was being an idiot."

Nikolaus abruptly stood, nicely shoving the cup of cocoa at him. "Rest," he eloquently ordered. "If you feel better by Monday, you can go back to school."

"And if I decide to walk out the door tonight?"

He lingered in the doorway a moment, completely still. With the door wide open, Emil could hear the annoying buzz of the Spongebob Squarepants theme song, sullenly sung along by Abel. Nikolaus let a sigh, drooping his shoulders. "I won't stop you. I can't stop you. But if you go out and almost get yourself killed again, I swear I'll get there in time to kill you myself."

Emil was suddenly left to stare at a thick wooden door. He directed his scowl to the hot cocoa and disdainfully sat it on the window sill. Paying mind to his angry flesh, Emil gingerly lay back down and shut his eyes.

Something pecked at his window.

Eyes snapped open and mind afresh with That Man's face, Emil bolted upright. He covered his groan and stumbled over to the window. Tao Wang waved back at him. Emil lifted the window and looked down at the very long ladder hoisting the boy up. At the ladder's base stood Yong Soo and a girl Emil didn't know. "'Sup?" Tao asked, completely unfazed by the height and Emil's gape.

"You could have come by the front door. Niko doesn't bite."

"Yeah, but he's, like, so tense and stuff," Tao replied, pulling himself inside. He dusted off his pants and cast a thumbs up outside to Yong Soo and his friend. They returned the gesture. "So," Tao started, turning back to him. "How're you doing?"

Emil rolled his eyes. "As well as an idiot like me can be, I guess. Did you come all this way-"

"Just to tell you to get well soon? Nope. I came to waste some time _and _to tell you to get well soon. My dad's freaking out about the restaurant and my girlfriend is currently in a mad search for her little sister. Yong Soo and Bong Chung are too preoccupied with translating _Gangnam Style _into English so they can post it on youtube. It's a miracle I convinced them to come with me," Tao reported, giving the room a good once over.

Emil, surprisingly, didn't feel like he was intruding. Honestly, he was almost glad Tao had decided to break into his room on a whim. His random presence was better than dealing with the somber air Nikolaus had left.

Speaking of which, he cast a fearful glance to the door. "Uh, maybe we should take this outside with Yong Soo and- what did you say her name was?- right, Bong Chung. Niko will flip if he sees you in here. He has a strict policy against people crawling through my window."

Tao politely ignored him, sticking his head back out the window. He drew back with a scowl. "As I thought. They're coming up too."

"_What?_" Before Emil could even look out the window himself, Yong Soo's head popped up. He gave a quiet wicked laugh and pulled himself in. With nothing more than a wave of greeting to Emil, he reached out to help Bong Chung in.

"My mother will kill you if she finds out about this," Bong Chung said, smoothing out her long skirt. When she rose back up, Emil's breath froze in his throat. Bong Chung dismissed his gape and politely bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Emil."

He blinked, snapping his mouth shut. Emil absently nodded in response, trying his hardest to shake that man out of his head. Try as he might, it proved to be impossible with his face looking back at him. He couldn't stop himself from choking out, "D-did you live in New York?"

Emil's heart grew cold when her lips twitched. Her denial, just as politely iterated as her hello, fell on deaf ears. She was related to the man who killed his parents. Of course. Of course! Because this was Heta, and nothing ever went right here! Emil _knew _something bad would eventually happen to him too! Forget about the motorcycle and Ivan- this was far worse. Even Tao, reaching out to sit him on his bed, face one of confusion and concern, made things worse. He didn't know what Bong Chung's father or brother or _something _did to his parents and brothers. Neither did Yong Soo, so obliviously holding Bong Chung's hand.

He really wished he hadn't totaled that motorcycle, because he wanted to run away so badly at that instant.

"Hey," Tao snapped, finally getting his attention. Emil looked up with wide eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

He slowly looked back to Bong Chung before flickering his eyes back to Tao. "Th-there was a girl that looked just like her where I used to live," he found himself so easily lying. "Sh-she was caught in a fire on 87th Street, so…. Never mind. You're obviously not a ghost. I'm sorry f-for freaking out and stuff."

"I'm very sorry to hear about your friend," Bong Chung said, dipping her head again. "I too know what it's like to lose someone dear to you."

"We weren't close. She was just a friend. Uh, more like an acquaintance. But everyone knew her."

She knew, didn't she? What that man did- somehow, Bong Chung knew that man murdered his parents and orphaned five boys that were still just kids.

Tao saved him the trouble of coming up with something else to go along with his lie. Patting Emil's head assuredly, Tao turned to Yong Soo and Bong Chung. "We'll come back later. He's not feeling good."

Well, that was an interesting way of putting it.

"Thanks for breaking into my house," Emil said. Bong Chung went down first, obviously not trusting Yong Soo while in a skirt. Emil didn't blame her, despite everything. Before Tao, the last, ducked out of sight, he gave a curt nod and disappeared.

Emil shut his window once they were back on solid ground. He stood and watched them wave one final time before folding up their absurd ladder and carrying it off. Instead of worrying about them as he should have, Emil walked over to his door. Spongebob still played, but both Nikolaus and Abel were silent. They were still silent when he walked over to the couch and sat between them. Abel merely ruffled his hair and turned back to his beer.

He really missed Berwald and Tino.

((((()))))

Heilrich sat on a stool behind the counter, watching Brandon pace across the tacky tiled floor. It was well into the night, but Roderich and Elizabeta still hadn't shown up. They weren't lost, of course. Heilrich had been sure to give directions to the flower shop to Elizabeta. He was beginning to get a little worried.

But when a familiar Volkswagon pulled up and parked in front of the door, the worry turned into dread. "Any last words?" he asked Brandon, seeing Roderich step out first, his fine suit illuminated in the street light. Roderich paused at the door, causing Brandon to also stop his pacing. Heilrich observed the exchange with mild anxiety. Roderich was neither cool nor flustered, so something was obviously awry. Then, moving faster than he had ever seen his father move, Roderich was inside with his arms wrapped around Brandon's neck.

Elizabeta finally entered, tears already running down her cheeks. "Y-you…!" she sobbed, unable to say anything more. Brandon moved to her after Roderich finally let him go, rubbing at his own eyes.

"We thought you were _dead,_" Roderich said at last. "Th-that letter. We held a funeral for you. W-we thought…."

Elizabeta shook her head, drawing back and cupping his face. "We thought you had killed yourself," she whispered.

Heilrich's eyebrows furrowed at that. Killed himself? Letter? Brandon seemed to be just as confused. He shook his head, looking to both of them. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. All of you suddenly stopped writing. I thought something terrible had happened, but I couldn't leave because of Sebastiaan." He suddenly gasped, terror overtaking him. "Gilbert! Is Gilbert okay? Did something happen to him?"

"You don't _know?_" Elizabeta shrilled. Heilrich flinched at the sound. Now she was entering frying-pan mode. However, this was considerably worse. Oven-mode? He wouldn't put it past his mother. If she tried hard enough, she probably could pick up a stove and throw it at someone.

With terribly shaking hands, she grabbed at his shirt collar. "You sent that darned letter telling your father and Gilbert that you were sorry, and that we shouldn't hate you because you were giving up! It was a freaking _suicide letter _and you don't remember it?"

Roderich took hold of her hands. "Give him time to explain," he murmured consolingly. For a moment, Heilrich was terrified Elizabeta would start strangling him the same way she often strangled Gilbert. Instead, she tightly nodded, turning her glare back to Brandon.

The man slowly shook his head, leaning back against the counter. "I really don't know what letter you're talking about. All I know is, all of you suddenly stopped sending letters. I freaked out and wrote you tons, but I never got any replies. Then Isabella took my money, I went to Amsterdam after her, and ended up adopting a kid named Sebastiaan. I helped his older brother and younger sister run to America."

"Amsterdam… Lars and Alice?" Heilrich asked.

Brandon nodded, then caught himself. His face suddenly became an interesting red color. "Wait a minute, you _knew _them? _They _knew _you? _Lars told me none of you were in Heta!"

"Well, we moved to Boston with Aria after the divorce," Roderich explained. "As far as I know, everyone else is still there."

"EVERYONE? AND HE NEVER TOLD ME?"

"I am so confused," Elizabeta muttered. She pulled out her cellphone and scrolled through her contacts. "Here's everyone's numbers, starting with Antonio. We'll try and sort through all of this tonight and starting calling them all tomorrow."

Brandon ran behind the counter to grab a pen and some paper. "_Danke! Ich liebe dich, _Lizzie!"

As he furiously scribbled, Heilrich awkwardly sat by, trying to sort through the hushed Hungarian his parents were talking in. He was fluent in German, but the Hungarian he was iffy about. His mother hadn't taught him for the sole purpose of being able to converse in secret with Roderich. Heilrich and Feliciano, long ago, had tried learning Hungarian with the help of the internet. Needless to say, Feliciano's short attention span made things quite difficult. Honestly, the only thing Feliciano could ever really focus on were his paintings. Which, sadly, Heilrich couldn't help him with since he had the artistic ability of a rock.

He was startled by a sudden hug. Brandon smushed him, much like how Gilbert did every time they met. "I owe you my life, kiddo. I swear I will give you a lifetime-supply of Edelweiss and any other flowers you so desire. I'll also include free flute lessons. Heck, I'll even buy you a flute!"

Heilrich wriggled out of his gracious hold and nervously grinned. "Uh, you don't owe me anything. It's the least I could do. Also, I already play the violin. Thanks for the offer, though."

"Well, you're certainly nothing like your _Vati_," Brandon mused. He paused a moment. With a slight frown, he looked up at Roderich and Elizabeta. "Roddy. How's _Vati _been, anyway? _Mutti? _Auntie Edelstein?"

Heilrich let out a tight sigh. "…_Großvater _died about three years ago."

Brandon closed his eyes a moment, mouth in a hard line. "I had a feeling he wasn't around anymore. Was… was it peaceful?"

"Yeah."

"_Gott sie Dank. _Everyone else is okay? Gilbert too?"

At his nod, Brandon silently went back to work, jotting down names and numbers. Heilrich looked down at the floor, just as silently as his uncle. He wondered how exactly it felt to know nothing about his family for so long. Brandon's apparent disappearance had to have happened over eighteen-years-ago since he had known nothing of Ludwig's existence.

What something like that happened to Heilrich one day? He could already hardly stand being without Feliciano. Losing everyone he knew and loved? Heilrich was sure he wouldn't be able to survive it. He was nothing without his loved ones, as fragmented and distant as they were.

Heilrich tapped on Brandon's shoulder. "I'll try calling Gilbert again. If nothing else, I can always get a hold of Ludwig."

"Thank you."

((((()))))

The second Ludwig stepped inside his house, DDR slammed into his ears. Didn't Gilbert ever stop playing that stupid game? Ludwig supposed he had Deshad to thank for this. If he hadn't taught Gilbert that silly dance routine of his, Gilbert might have eventually given up on the game.

With a roll of his eyes, Ludwig walked in the living room. Astro, Brooklyn, and Rose were instantly at his feet, anxiously whining, ears flattened. "He's that bad today?" he deadpanned. However, when he looked up, he did not see his father's terrible dancing. Instead, he saw an unpaused game churning out an obnoxiously peppy tune. Ludwig ran over to the couch.

He couldn't help the scream that came out of his throat. He tore over to an unconscious Gilbert's side, shouting at the top of his lungs. In the background, he heard the phone ring. However, he blocked its ringing and DDR's song out and picked up Gilbert, taking off running towards the Luddy-Mobile.

Panic fully took over him when Gilbert stirred, only to cringe, as if in pain.

"_Oh Gott, oh Gott_," he shakily said under his breath, fumbling with the keys. For once in its pathetic life, the Luddy-Mobile started almost instantly. With the front door wide open, allowing the world access to all of their worldly belongings, Ludwig tore out of the driveway, tires squealing in protest.

He reached the hospital in less than five torturous minutes. Everything in such a short while- nurses running just as frantic as him, calling for doctors and a gurney, telling Ludwig to please stand back- that his head spun. It was good timing on the receptionist's part for sitting him down, because Ludwig was sure his knees would have buckled.

"Sir," the woman snapped, just a tad impatiently. "Sir, have you noticed anything abnormal?"

He caught himself before he shook his head. "He overslept. He never oversleeps."

"Fatigue. Anything else?"

"No."

The woman bit her lip and rubbed his shoulder. "Well, don't worry. We'll take care of him. Your father- he _is _your father, correct?- will be alright."

Ludwig numbly nodded. As soon as the woman walked away, he dropped his face in his hands.

He really wished he was the emotionless brick wall Lovino made him out to be.

**Translation**

**German-**

_**Danke! Ich liebe dich, Elizabeta!- Thank you! I love you, Lizzie!**_

_**Großvater- Grandpa**_

_**Gott sie Dank- Thank God.**_


	13. Chapter 13

**We have a new addition to the Swedish House (Mafia), my new, and hopefully not as evil as the last, Chihuahua! We named it Denozo after the character from NCIS, because my sister and I are horribly unoriginal.**

**But anyway, I'm planning a fic about a human-AU version of Hetaoni. Any thoughts, concerns, or random flames are accepted on this subject.**

**Chapter 13-**

The floor let out a whining creak as she nimbly leapt over the gaping hole in the floor. After unlocking the door and setting the stage for them, they had went and literally broken her floor? But she had more pressing things on her mind than fussing about some silly teenagers who thought they owned the place simply because their parents had once been here. She gingerly picked up the photo frame, careful not to disturb the fine three-year layer of dust on the surface. If they ever came back and saw, suspicion would run wild through town.

With that Emil kid around, they might actually find out who set this all up.

Bong Chung uncertainly lifted the moth-eaten mattress to retrieve a tape. She meticulously wiped it off with her sleeve, frowning at the worn stretch of tape on the front of it. "September 25," she murmured. With a tight sigh, she stuffed it in her pocket.

She next pulled out her old cell phone, frowning in concern at the dimmed screen. How long had she kept this now? Ten, eleven years? It didn't particularly matter, though. The past was long gone, and all those who had been in it far from her mind.

It took a while for her call to reach Him, the man that had successfully gotten them to Heta. Bong Chung hadn't seen him in three years, but she knew he was keeping tabs on him. This was the kind of man that, once you made a deal with him, he wouldn't forget you until the debt had been paid. However, almost immediately had he named this debt: either they completely pay back the money he had spent on getting them to Heta and clear their names or she would have to do something a bit more complicated.

Making sure an entire town population knew their lives were a complete lie? Bong Chung thought that wasn't exactly "a bit" more complicated.

She didn't wait for the hello he wouldn't offer. "I have a problem," Bong Chung primly stated, sitting on the stiff bed. She drew her legs up to her and leaned against the headboard.

"I don't have time to fix your problem. I've already gotten things on my side rolling."

Already? Then she was running out of time. "Then I need your advice as to how I can fix the problem," she acquiesced. "There's a kid in town who might expose me. He apparently knew my father, and my face must have tipped him off."

"That's not too big of an issue. Convince him otherwise."

"My father orphaned him."

The other end was silent for a long time. Bong Chung anxiously fingered the thick, bright pink headphones around her neck. Yong Soo's face popped up into her mind, making her taste something sour.

How many times had she lied to him?

Bong Chung flinched when the man spoke again, still just as apathetically unconcerned as he usually was. "Then I'll employ my backup plan, if my sister hasn't already started it."

Sister? He had a family? The man calmly acknowledged her surprise. "Of course I have a sister. Brother, too. They're the reason I'm doing this."

"I thought you were doing this for money," Bong Chung accused, her eyebrows further slipping into a scowl.

"That too. But mostly for them. Look, if you can't do your job, you're going to have to pay me back. I'm a nice guy, but I love my cold, hard cash just as much as I love repaying those who can't return my favors."

She tightly swallowed the wild fear clawing up her throat. "I'll keep trying," she forced herself to say. "If I can't have them over to you by the end of the month, I'll pay you back in full by June."

"That's my girl," he said, ending the call.

Bong Chung gritted her teeth at the dial tone. She let out a furious yell and threw her phone at the wall. Why had she ever listened to her father and called that man? Why couldn't they have just stayed where they were?

But, again, the past was the past; she couldn't go back and change it to the way it should have been. Wiping at the stupid tears that wouldn't stop falling, she left to pick up the pieces of her shattered phone. Almost exactly as she put it all back together and turned it back on, Yong Soo called.

That hated persona came back and she put on a smile that horribly clashed with her red cheeks and watery eyes. "_Annyeong, nae salang!_" Yong Soo cheerfully greeted.

"_Annyeonghaseyo_."

Bong Chung wiped any trace of sadness from her face, leaping back over the hole and into the hall. The murky air that never saw fresh daylight was thick as she glided downstairs, instinctively holding her breath. Yong Soo continued to twitter away about his progress in his translation of _Gangnam Style_. So far, so good. Once outside, Bong Chung hopped on her bike and took off, promising to be at the restaurant as fast as she could.

"But hey, your mom's okay?"

Ah, that's right. She had told Yong Soo her mother was supposed to have a treatment, giving her a good excuse to escape. "She's doing well," Bong Chung answered. "We just got back home and she's taking a nap."

"That's good. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"_Annyeonghi gaseyo_."

Bong Chung tried not to stare at the quickly setting sun as she peddled along, passing quaint little houses (except for the one that was emanating strange sounds of techno Polish music). They made her feel the tiniest bit better about all of this. She would repay her debtor soon enough, then she would be free to be as happy as everyone else. Of course, she would find her happiness through a mountain of lies, but it was a good thing Bong Chung had experience in that particular field.

After all, it takes some talent to fake a loving relationship.

A tangy taste popped up in her mouth again as she secured her bike to the stand outside. How horrible was she, using so many people for her own gain? What if doing what that man said brought new troubles to everyone she had slowly come to know? Yong Soo had told her almost everything about everyone- Arthur and Alfred's massive meltdown, Lovino and Feliciano's reunion, and anything else he could remember to mention.

According to what Yong Soo had told her, these people had gone through situations almost as bad as hers.

It made new layers of guilt pile up on her heart, but she marched on like a good and faithful soldier.

"…stay the night at Alfred's house, in case they need me?" she heard Kiku ask as she walked into the restaurant. Bong Chung felt dread creep over her when the entire Wang clan popped into view, including Yong Soo's aunt and cousins. Family gatherings like this, she had quickly learned, usually spelled a sappy reunion or trouble. Since the former had already occurred, it had to be the latter.

"Um, is something wrong?" she hesitantly asked, wriggling into the hole created to include her in their meeting.

Kiku worriedly frowned. Bong Chung took in his shouldered duffle bag and hand holding his car keys. He had put the tiny Hatsune Miku keychain Bong Chung had gotten him for Christmas on it. "Ludwig's father is sick, and he and Feliciano are currently in the middle of a teary breakdown in which I must intervene. I'm sorry to have brought you such troublesome news."

He was always so polite around her that it never ceased to make her feel completely awkward. However, Bong Chung hid that as well with her sympathetic, "I'm sorry to hear that. Give them my regards, please."

Bong Chung respectfully remained silent as they sent him off, focusing on Yong Soo's troubled look. "I'm sure everything's alright," she said consolingly, taking his hand.

"Yeah," he absently agreed. But Yong Soo turned to her with a smile. "You know what? How about we play some DDR instead of sitting around translating. I bet we can cream Kieu and Lam."

They sent a grin to the startled siblings, instantly apprehensive.

Even though the tape in her skirt pocket sent cold chills through her, Yong Soo's company made the burden all the more lighter. He was the reason she didn't have to fake her delighted laughter as they hopped around, absolutely kicking Kieu and Lam's butts.

What scared Bong Chung, though, was that when she told him she loved him, she almost meant it.

((((()))))

What felt like one musical eternity later, the four of them sat in the dining room at Red Flower, feasting on wisdom in the form of cookies. Eventually, as people began to migrate to the cash register to pay for their wonderful meal, Tao and Xiao Mei also joined them. Luckily, Ivan was still absorbed in sending farewells to everyone, who awkwardly took it. He was a regular sight to everyone, but it was still odd to see him amongst so many short, skinny Asians.

That was probably what Bong Chung liked most about him. Her friendship with him was just as awkward as any, but he was nice with the strangest, almost childishly sinister sense of humor. That slightly freaked her out, but Bong Chung couldn't blame him. Ivan's story was one she didn't know well, because he had told no one of what had happened to him three years ago.

She liked his company a bit more because of that, too. He kept secrets of his own, so she didn't feel too bad all of the time.

But back at midnight-snack gathering, Bong Chung found a group of people as honest as ever, lowly discussing how funny Yao had been acting since money had suddenly became an issue.

Bong Chung quietly got up to get Yong Soo a refill.

Thankfully, they had turned their conversation over to Ludwig when she came back. "He didn't call Kiku," Yong Soo worriedly explained, pausing only to momentarily read his fortune: "'_Keep in mind the secrets which are kept to protect another, and forgive those who hold them close.' _Ooh, ominous. Anyway, Feli called, freaking out. He said he and Lovino were letting Ludwig stay with him. That's why Kiku's over at Al's place. Everyone, be prepared from some very polite complaining tomorrow."

"What exactly happened to Gilbert?" Bong Chung asked.

Yong Soo shrugged. "They haven't said anything yet. Francis and Antonio are staying there, though, with Helda. They told the doctors they were his adoptive brothers."

_Those two_, Bong Chung mentally sighed. The thought of them, however, sent a new wave of guilt crashing over her. How was she supposed to sneak the tape to Ludwig with all of this going on? Telling him what happened September 25th, 1987, would absolutely crush him _and _the others. How could she do that, knowing why Antonio and Francis cared so much about Gilbert?

But she had to. It was her only option.

"Well, I hope he's alright," she said. That, at least, was true. From what she had seen in that tape weighing her down in her pocket, Gilbert was someone she knew she would get along with. He had lost a brother and she had lost a father. For one day, they had shared the same kind of pain one felt when losing someone close them.

She could not let them see that tape.

When Yao popped up to announce it was time to leave, Bong Chung hopped out of her seat in worry. "It's already midnight?" she burst.

"You guys were at the arcade for quite a while," Tao intoned. "You didn't ride your bike over here again, did you?"

Yong Soo threw a hug at her before she could even answer. "_Appa_, we have to take her home!"

Bong Chung's eyes went wide. "N-no! No, you don't have to do that, Mr. Wang. I'll be fine. My house isn't too far away and-" She was cut off by Yong Soo's tightened hug that interestingly enough blocked her windpipe.

"DON'T LISTEN TO HER, _APPA_!"

"Well," Yao proposed, "since Kiku's gone, what about staying the night with us?"

There was silence- Yong Soo stunned, Bong Chung slightly preoccupied with choking. Yong Soo released his hold on her to fling himself at his father. "YES! She can have- wait a minute, Kiku sleeps on an overly stuffed blanket now, don't he. She and Xiao Mei can have mine and Tao's beds, Tao can sleep in Xiao Mei's room, and I'll be awesome and sleep on the couch! And in the morning, I'm making waffles!"

"Please stop watching movies with Alfred," Yao merely pleaded, wriggling out of Yong Soo's hug before he got too touchy-feely.

"That was from Shrek," Bong Chung helpfully put it. "I had to sit and watch it too."

"Don't you just love it? The sequel was so much better. Although, it could have used more Korean influence-"

He instantly swallowed his words when Ivan decided to join them. After some nervous hellos were exchanged, and Yao's proposition was accepted, he went outside to attempt to stuff her bike in the back of Yao's Nisan. Since Ivan, a bike, and a Nisan were not good combinations, they all followed. Tao and Yong Soo quickly relieved Ivan of his task.

Only once their nightly restaurant duties had been done, and they had successfully piled into the same car together, did Bong Chung allow herself to frown. In the dark car, only barely illuminated by the abnormally bright moon, no one could see her face and thus judge her emotions. Well, technically, it was only one emotion that she couldn't shake.

Today was a day worse than any she had ever met. Not only was she given a deadline to do one of two impossible things, but she was on her way to a house filled with people she had betrayed. Bong Chung slightly winced at that. It wasn't _exactly _betrayal. Just a lot of lying and limited thievery.

…And she still had that tape.

It had taken every ounce of her will power not to burst into tears. Yong Soo's presence beside her thankfully helped, although it made the feeling all the more worse.

What would he think if he learned the truth? Yong Soo was already fragile enough. That boy had more self-confidence issues than anyone else Bong Chung had ever met. However, he didn't acknowledge it, and thus pushed it all aside, locking it somewhere deep inside him. Bong Chung had tried her hardest to keep him in high spirits, going along with each and every one of his crazy ideas.

To learn she had been pretending all along would absolutely shatter him.

But what was more important? Keeping the life she had now, free of the past, or ruining one silly boy's life?

It really wasn't even something to be asked. Bong Chung knew what she wanted and should do, but the consequences would be too great if she didn't do what was demanded of her.

Under her breath, she quietly muttered, "I'm sorry."

((((()))))

_When the new camcorder flashed to life, a somber Gilbert came into view, his back against a brick wall, white gravels underneath him. He was haphazardly dressed, wearing the attire of boy who woke up late for school because he spent all last night crying over his dead brother, whom he claimed was alive._

"_Um. Hi," the boy awkwardly started, giving the camera a short wave. "I'm sitting here on the school's roof because I hate chemistry, and I'm really not in the mood to take any crap from Kirkland. He…. I haven't told him yet. Actually, I'm kinda hoping Antonio or Roderich will. Francis, I expect, will be up here sometime soon."_

_Gilbert frowned, his gaze lingering everywhere but at the camera. For a moment, wetness started to pool in the corners of his eyes. "I'm such a crybaby," he muttered, blinking heavily. "_And _I'm an idiot, sitting up here talking to a stupid camcorder. Guess I'm… guess I'm not that awesome right now, huh."_

_A smile, small and summoning more tears, slowly came on his face. Gilbert closed his eyes a moment, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Remember how that all got started? Us being awesome?" he asked, wet scarlet eyes finally addressing the camcorder. "I came home bawling like a baby the first day of school. All the kids at recess kept calling me weird, because I was albino. Well, everyone but Francis, Samantha, and Arthur, but they're just as much freaks of nature as I am. But… but you stopped me, when we got off the bus. They had called me the same thing there, too. You took my shoulders and shook me a bit. You told me they said that because they had gotten the words 'weird' and 'awesome' confused. So… so the whole time, they were actually saying I was awesome. Not weird, but…."_

_He paused momentarily, turning at the sound of a loud squeak. "You're actually doing this?" Francis's thick voice asked in surprise. He sat down beside Gilbert, scooting over to give him room so he'd be recorded too._

_Francis looked terrible, cheeks blotchy and eyes bloodshot. His hair was limp and frizzy, like he'd gotten up, looked in the mirror, then shrugged and went on his merry way. But when he looked to face the camcorder, his gaze was anything but shaky. It was filled with sorrow and an anger that melded his face into something rarely seen. "I hope you know this is your fault."_

_Gilbert visibly flinched, staring at him in shock. Francis merely dropped his face in his hands, silent for a long while. "I'm sorry," he eventually croaked. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."_

_Francis raised his head, trying his best to keep from making direct eye-contact with the camcorder and Gilbert. "Antonio said he'd be up here fifth period. We have about an hour," he lifelessly reported._

"_Anyone bothered to tell Samantha and Arthur yet?"_

"_Elizabeta told Arthur. He's…. I don't know. I don't know, because… he decided to run away, too. He should be at home right about now, starting on Ansel's brandy stash. Arthur is a coward like us. Isn't that refreshing to know?" The grin on his face was dead- a pathetic sight, to see him try to look as devilish as he had in every past video. But now, his eyes were puffy, his hair flat, and posture slumped over. This time, there was no one to impress in the future. This time… it was all real- the numbed pain, the hopelessness._

_Gilbert flicked at the gravels around him, swallowing hard. "We're not the cowards, Francis. I mean… I know we've done a lot of stupid things in our time. All of us. But something like this…. H-he hasn't written back. For months, he hasn't written me back! And… and then _this_, out of blue. Why won't he write me back and tell me this is a joke?"_

_Francis's face crumbled. He quickly blinked, angling his face away from Gilbert. "I don't know, Gilbert," Francis said, rubbing at his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head. "I don't know why he did this."_

"_Why he wrote the letter? Or… or do you agree with what _Vati _thinks?"_

"_Gilbert," Francis sighed, "please don't do this."_

"_Don't do what?" he demanded, scowling at him. More tears threatened to spill over, so Gilbert stubbornly closed his eyes for a moment. In a clipped voice he stated, "You and _Vati _are wrong. I can't believe you two, thinking something like that in the first place. Over in Germany, he's sitting in his dorm, thinking-"_

_His voice cracked. Francis hugged himself to keep from reaching out to him. He knew that even patting Gilbert's arm would unleash a flood he couldn't hope to contain. Coming up to the roof had been a terrible idea anyway._

_After a moment, the two met each others' eyes._

"_Hey, guys."_

_Gilbert and Francis both flinched. Antonio plopped himself down. Answering Gilbert's stunned look, Antonio heavily sighed. "I figured you two needed a level head right now, so I decided to… to-"_

"_Skip?" Francis supplied._

_Antonio nodded. "Yeah. Skip the rest of the day."_

_When he was met with more silence, Antonio sent a frown to Gilbert. "Well?"_

"_Well, what?" Gilbert snapped._

"_You said you were going to talk and feel better," Antonio reminded Gilbert, not bothering to hide his concerned frown. He nodded back to the camcorder. "I didn't buy that for you so you could sit here and stare at it."_

_Gilbert blinked. "Wait, _you? _But Elizabeta-"_

_Now Antonio's face grew nervous. "I-if you thought it was just her, that's okay. She picked it out. I just paid for it. And I bought the tripod. Are you angry at me?"_

"_No," Gilbert said, shaking his head in awe. "No! Antonio, man, you've been working all summer to get yourself some cash, and you spent it all on this stupid stuff?"_

_He shrugged. "Well, you guys spent all last year making my English better. You helped me climb out my window so you could to teach me how to TP a house, AND you let me eat the best part of Arthur's _cumpleaos _cake. That was _very _good cake, Francis."_

_The blonde humbly chuckled. Antonio's happy face was starting to come back. He laughed and said, "Plus, you all initiated me into your crime ring. You made me part of all your gang. How could I not spend a little money on you?"_

_That caused Gilbert to weakly chuckle. "We got you _so _drunk that night. Man, I thought for sure you were about to head out to Arthur's house and throw another egg in his face. You were _livid._"_

_Antonio obviously had no idea what "livid" meant, but he nodded anyway. "I wonder how many times Brandon watched that? I bet he bought himself a camcorder and watched it on loop during his flight, the entire way there."_

_At the mention of his name, Gilbert and Francis couldn't help but cringe. Antonio stopped talking, worriedly looking back to them. He swallowed heavily and winced slightly, as if mentally berating himself. "You can't be afraid of your brother's name, Gilbert, or your best friend's name, Francis," Antonio said lowly. "And… he wouldn't want you two to be crying over him. He always said-"_

"_How would you know what he always said?" Gilbert finally snapped, eyes narrowed. "You didn't even know him for a year!"_

"_So? Doesn't mean Brandon wasn't my friend, too!" Antonio shouted back. His voice cracked halfway. "Even though we had all that fun, you two were always dragging me around, right? Right? But Brandon made sure you two didn't leave me behind, or make me do something stupid to keep you out of trouble. He told me to stop being a baby, because, obviously, you two already have that covered!"_

_Gilbert launched himself, jumping clean over Francis to tackle into Antonio. "Shut up! You didn't know him at all!"_

_Francis jumped up, tears finally spilling over. "Stop it!" he yelled. "Stop! Gilbert!"_

_But he didn't care to listen. Antonio shoved Gilbert off of him. Gilbert lay stunned on the gravel a moment, obviously not having expected Antonio to fight back. Then, gritting his teeth, he grabbed Antonio's leg, sending him crashing back to the ground. Gilbert pinned him down. For a moment, he just stared at the frightened Spaniard under him. Then, with a cry he punched him, snapping his head away from the camcorder. He reared back to hit again, but Francis threw his arms around him, effectively pinning him._

"_Let go of me!"_

"_You just punched Antonio!" Francis burst, dragging him to his feet. Antonio slowly sat up, cradling his jaw. Pain was written on his face- but not from his cheek. He pushed himself up, still staring at Gilbert, crying and shouting out. Francis worriedly snapped his head up at him. "Antonio, are you alright?"_

_He didn't respond. Silent, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him._

_Francis gritted his teeth and pushed Gilbert up against the wall. "You're acting like an idiot," he hissed. "_Antonio._ You know, the kid _you _suggested we take in? Because you didn't want him to be a loser like we were?"_

_He froze._

_Francis let out a deep breath, bringing his voice down from a shout to a quiet monotone. "Yes. I remember. And I heard you talking about it before I came out, Gilbert the Weirdo. Don't give me that look. I was Francis the Freak. Freak is worse than Weirdo."_

_The blonde cleared his throat. "When Antonio came here, everyone kept speaking gibberish to him. While I passed by, feeling them up so they'd stop messing with him, you grabbed his arm and pulled him over to our table in lunch. Roderich shared his sandwich with him. Arthur and Samantha immediately started giving him English lessons."_

_Gilbert dropped his forehead against the brick. Francis finally let go of him, hearing the soft sniffling. He sat him back on the ground. "We did for Antonio what Brandon did for us. Of course, being the fools we are, we tried to get Antonio to take the blame because he's too nice for his own good. Brandon _did _always stop us. He wanted us to be like him."_

"_Didn't stop us when his skin was on the line too," Gilbert quietly corrected._

_Francis rolled his eyes. "Point is, Gilbert, although Antonio didn't know him near as well as us, he knew him enough. It's… it's up to us to be the rest of him. We're both awesome because Brandon said so. Don't you think it's finally time for us to start acting like it? To grow up, just a little?"_

_He was quiet, but Francis didn't dare ask again. Instead, he stood and said, "I'm going to find Antonio before he locks himself in one of the restroom stalls and cries for an hour. If you'd like to get the others out of class, we could all go out for some hot cocoa at the coffee shop?"_

_Gilbert tossed him a grateful look over his shoulder. "Yeah. And tell 'Tonio I'm sorry. My a-awesomeness just blinked out for a moment. But it's back now, so all is righted."_

"_You're so conceited," Francis joked. However, he paused at the door, head hung low. "…I'm sorry too, Gilbert. For everything. None of this was supposed to happen. Not to you, not to any of us."_

_The door squeaked shut once more. Gilbert rubbed his palms against his eyes. He took a shuddering breath and raised his head. "So, here we are again. Boy talking to his camcorder, punching his friends and being a big jerk, missing his stupid brother."_

_Gilbert's lips twitched, so he bit down on them, desperate not to make another frown. "I know you're out there, Brandon. You're too awesome to do something like this. There's no way you'd miss us this much. And you're a freaking genius compared to me, so I know it wasn't stress. Just… come back home. Help me prove them wrong."_

"_You're not dead, Brandon. I don't know what happened to you, or why you sent us that letter and disappeared, but…."_

_Without another word, just a choked sob, Gilbert reached forward and turned the camcorder off._

_It was never turned on again._


	14. Chapter 14

**Ugh, don't you just hate it when you're writing a sad part and a sad song pops up that just **_**fits the moment?**_

**Grr. Anyway, I hope you enjoy your chapter!**

**Chapter 14-**

When Gilbert finally opened his heavy eyes, the first person he saw was Helda. She sat the foot of his bed, softly talking to someone else. That someone else sounded quite similar to Antonio. When he mentioned something about Ludwig staying with Feliciano, Gilbert was positive it was him.

"Why, hello there," Francis's voice intoned beside him. Gilbert dulling flicked his eyes over to him. His mouth was dry and he felt tired enough to fall back asleep at a moment's notice, but he forced himself to stay awake and grate out a "'Sup, Franny?" in response.

"Alright then, you two," Helda piped up, once again gaining Gilbert's undivided attention. She clearly was not in the mood for either of them- not very surprising, since she had never really liked Francis or Antonio. Honestly, Gilbert was amazed she could stand _him_. He had a feeling she loved him solely for his dashing good looks and hilarious sense of humor. "You know the drill. When I'm finished chewing him out, you can come back."

Gilbert was about to wave them goodbye until her words registered in his brain. Chew him out. That means she knew he was sick, which meant that this horribly drab room was a hospital room. Well, gee. That just ruined his day. Helda was deathly silent for the longest time, even well after Francis and Antonio were gone. Gilbert winced. Helda was by no means a loud person, but this was something entirely different from her usual stillness.

"Helda, I'm so-"

"I don't want to hear it, Gil," she interrupted. Helda reached over to take his hand. "Try to imagine how you'd feel if Ludwig called you at work to tell you I had collapsed out of nowhere. Then, think of how you'd feel when the doctors told you I was experiencing _liver failure_."

That certainly wasn't good. Gilbert swallowed hard. His inner coward tried to force him to break contact with her eyes, but he held fast. His pride proved to be stronger. "I didn't know it was that bad, Helda. I swear."

"That's no excuse!" she snapped. At least Gilbert knew where Ludwig got his temper. "They told me you'd progressed so much that it's a miracle you're still alive!"

"I didn't want you or Luddy to worry about me!"

Helda angrily exhaled, gripping his hand tighter. "Listen to me, and listen to me well. I'm not the kind of freaking wife that married you because of your looks or humor, got it? I _care _about you. I care about you enough _to _worry, and you should respect that, Gilbert Beilschmit."

Helda knew how to easily read minds, as well. It had always been a talent of hers. However, Gilbert was pretty awesome at reading her mind, too, so he had no doubt that she was absolutely livid. Too bad Gilbert couldn't calm her down. That, unfortunately, had never been one of his many awesome talents, and he was severely regretting it now. Dealing with an angry Francis and Antonio would have been much better than this. Gilbert could usually distract them with some witty remarks and few dozen _awesomes _thrown in. That didn't really work on Helda, the same way it didn't work on Ludwig.

Seeing this wasn't a battle he was going to win, Gilbert sighed another apology. Instead of continuing to fuss at him like he expected, Helda leaned over to kiss him. "I know you're sorry. You're sorry for a lot of things, Gilbert, and I think that's why you didn't tell us. But none of it is your fault. Stop thinking it is, _liebe._ Now. Who's going to call Ludwig?"

"He's going to eat my soul," Gilbert casually said, poking at the bracelet on his wrist. It had everything written on it- name, birthday, and all of that jazz- but it didn't seem right that he'd be wearing it. Honestly, it was still hard to wrap his head around the fact that his liver was currently in hot rebellion with the rest of him. Not awesome. And kinda painful, too. Luckily, they had seen fit to drug him up, but not to full-blown loopy. Gilbert was grateful for that at least. No crazy Lovinos or Alfreds here!

Everyone had entered panic mode over them, so it was likely the same with him. All of Heta and anyone else within a fifty-mile radius had probably heard he was sick by now.

Gilbert hoped they'd bring him get-well-soon chocolate. He kinda liked chocolate.

Helda pursed her lips and lightly smacked his arm. "Stop thinking about chocolate! Honestly, Gilbert. You're deathly sick, and you can't even take that seriously."

"Oh, believe me, I can enter full-sulk mode if you want, but I was hoping to save that for Francis and Antonio." Gilbert rolled his eyes, and tried to ignore the fact that it was tiring to do so. "Do you know how easy it is to fix this sort of thing? I'll be ready for DDR in no time."

Of course, didn't look convinced. Gilbert himself didn't really feel convinced, but he grinned anyway. In response, Helda pulled out her phone. "If you feel so good, you can call our son. I'm sure he'll agree with you."

"Helda, I'm already in the hospital. I don't want to end up at a morgue."

"He's at Antonio's house."

"You're a jerk."

The Jerk merely smiled.

((((()))))

It hadn't taken very long for Ludwig to find a productive way to vent. Beside him, in neat, pristine stacks, sat every piece of dining ware the Carriedo's owned, save the last plate Ludwig was furiously scrubbing at. He was so completely focused on his task that he didn't hear Aria ask him if he wanted to give it a rest. Even if he had heard her, he probably would have said, "I owe you all for letting me stay the night."

That was only a fraction of the reason why he was completely flipping their house upside down in a rushed but thorough cleaning spree. They only area he hadn't torn apart yet was Lovino's bedroom, and he was sure he wouldn't be getting within a twenty foot radius of it. Having to drive him home since the Luddy-Mobile refused to start had nearly made him snap. Ludwig was afraid that if Feli hadn't been bawling the backseat, taking up most of Lovino's attention, he probably would have been decapitated on the spot.

But aside from Lovino's usual glares and muttered threats, he had been acting quite odd. Again, Ludwig paid little attention, completely enveloping himself in the impressive stack of dirty dishes one Italian (and partly Spanish) family could accumulate over a short amount of time. Lovino had taken extra precaution to avoid him at all costs, refusing to look at him. He didn't even spare him a nasty glare when Ludwig thanked him for coming to pick him up.

Something was definitely wrong here.

A knock on the door finally pulled Ludwig's thoughts closer to a reality that wasn't mostly composed of dirty dishwater. Feliciano zoomed up to the door before Ludwig could even turn around. Kiku stood on the porch, but he was soon yanked inside. After braving one of Feliciano's bear hugs, he bowed to Ludwig and gave his condolences.

Last time he checked, Gilbert wasn't dead yet. Ludwig shook the horrible thought from his head and offered a tiny smile. "Hello, Kiku. Thanks for coming."

"If you need anything- you too, Feli-_chan_- I'll be spending the night with Alfred, so don't hesitate to call," he replied. He slightly faltered for a moment. Then, quietly, he asked, "Is there any room for me to stay here as well?"

"Of course!" Feliciano happily burst, grabbing hold of Kiku and Ludwig's hands. "We can have a sleepover and have pillow fights!"

Ludwig had a feeling Feli had watched one too many chick flicks with Aria. He didn't utter a word, though. Even with the heavy feeling weighing on his chest, Ludwig couldn't bear to further ruin his friend's day. It was already painful enough to have seen him crying on the way here. And that wasn't counting even earlier at the school library, either. Watching that video seemed like it had happened days ago, not mere hours. It was already something past midnight, if the kitchen clock had anything to say about it.

Feli dragged them into the living room, slightly startling Aria, painting her nails. She gathered up her things and escaped to her own room. Ludwig found it pretty sad that even Aria wasn't brave enough to handle one of Feliciano's "sleepovers".

Fortunately, the phone rang before Feli could properly begin planning out their entire night. He grabbed it before it had a chance to ring twice. "Hello?"

His smile dipped, and Ludwig's heart momentarily stopped. Something was wrong, something was horribly wrong, someone had _towed away his van_-

"It's Gilbert," Feli said, pulling the smile back up on his face. Ludwig unsuccessfully tried to politely take it.

He did, however, manage to politely excuse himself. Outside on the fancy porch, giving no regard to anyone asleep at this hour, Ludwig yelled, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

Gilbert was slow to reply, but Helda's murmurings in the background convinced him to speak up. "Uh… it's not something terribly bad?"

Ludwig leaned against the house and rubbed his temples. "Not something terribly bad" indeed meant something terribly bad, but probably not something "unawesome". "Have you heard anything? No one would tell me anything. Dr. Zwingli said you probably alright, but-"

Ludwig realized he was starting to stutter his words. He swallowed hard. "But you're doing well?"

"Is it really that hard to admit you're worried, Mr. Macho?"

A corny nickname. That was a good sign. Ludwig allowed himself a slight grin. Maybe Gilbert really was okay, and Ludwig was simply freaking out over nothing. It hadn't been the first time, he was sure. However, after giving it some thought, Ludwig honestly couldn't recall a time he had been so terrified.

He knew he had Brandon to blame for this. Learning the truth from Arthur had truly frightened him more than Ludwig wanted to admit. What if Gilbert was still traumatized from that? Earlier this morning- again, it felt more like it had happened last month- Ludwig was sure Gilbert was about to ask if he had been a good brother. Of course he had been a good brother! What happened to Brandon was absolutely _not _his fault! Ludwig didn't even pretend to know why Brandon had been so stupid, but he knew he hadn't killed himself because of something Gilbert did or didn't do.

He suddenly had to fight to keep everything inside. Telling his sick father he knew everything about the brother he had tried so hard to forget about wouldn't exactly be helpful.

Instead, Ludwig released a sigh and smoothed back his hair. "Fine," he acquiesced, "I'm a little worried. Oh, and the van has officially broken down. It's still in the parking lot. Lovino had to drive me here."

"And you still have all of your limbs intact?"

"I can't believe it either. I think Feliciano's presence made him slightly more tolerant to my presence."

Gilbert let out a laugh, but it was a little forced. Ludwig's frown instantly came back. "If you're still tired, you should rest. I'll come tomorrow morning."

"The painstakingly punctual Ludwig Beilschmit is going to skip school?" Gilbert incredulously asked.

His mood fell when Ludwig kindly told him tomorrow (well, technically, _today_) was Saturday. "Unawesome mood-kill, Luddy. Don't worry about the Luddy-Mobile. You can drive the equally as awesome Volkswagon if you want."

Before Ludwig could stop himself, he blurted out, "What about the Impala in the garage?"

Gilbert honestly surprised him when he was quick to answer with, "That old thing? It hasn't been driven in years. It's probably too run-down to even start."

"Oh. I'm sorry, then. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Awesome. _Guten nacht_, Luddy."

((((()))))

Brandon had started to call everyone as soon as he woke up that morning, bright and early at noon, but he had to remind himself it was still the crack of dawn in America. Brandon was sure none of them would appreciate a call at six in the morning, even if it was from him. Because of that- and the fact that he had decided he was taking a week's vacation from work- Brandon had felt no qualms at sleeping in so late.

Since he had pestered Roderich, Elizabeta, and Heilrich into staying the night at his house, waiting hadn't been too excruciating. Elizabeta threatened to kill him unless she could fix lunch, and Heilrich was a willing listener to all of his stories. Roderich was particularly interested in hearing about Sebastiaan, as was Elizabeta. Clearly they hadn't seen him as the fatherly type. Well, in his defense, neither of them had initially seemed to be awesome parents. Brandon simply chose to think of Heilrich as an extremely awesome kid to have to put up with the two of them.

"So… you quit college to take care of the child whose mother ruined your life?" Heilrich slowly asked, quite unbelieving of his story.

Brandon sighed. That tended to happen a lot, actually, so he didn't blame the kid. "He reminded me of Mi- er, Gilbert as a kid. So sue me for agreeing to take him in. Besides, Lars didn't have enough money to get all three of them to America."

"Why didn't he tell everyone you were still alive?" Roderich butted in. He was still suspicious of him, thinking Brandon had _wanted _them to believe he was dead. Honestly, Brandon had no idea of this letter they constantly brought up. Brandon wrote no such thing!

"I don't know, but I think I'm going to kill him the next time I see him," Brandon sweetly said. "I don't care if he's Bast's _bruder_. That brat is going _down._"

Without meaning to, Brandon's eyes strayed over to the nearest clock. His face lit up when he discovered it was nearly two o'clock. In America, that was eight o'clock. Surely Mr. Arthur Kirkland, lawyer of Heta, would be awake.

He politely yelled for everyone to be _absolutely silent_, and totally didn't bounce like a kid on Christmas morning as he quickly dialed the first number. Brandon's hopes didn't fade in the least when there were several rings. When Arthur's voice answered with a "Hello", he wanted to cheer.

Brandon hung up as soon as Arthur's "hello" turned into a "Hello. I'm afraid I'm not home at the moment, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Maybe Francis, French teacher at Heta High, was awake and preparing for a day of terrorizing the town! This time, Brandon's hopes weren't violently crushed when someone answered the phone after just a few rings. "Hello?" he asked excitedly.

A little girl echoed him.

Francis had a kid? A woman had actually been dense enough to marry _Francis?_ However, this was still a good sign. "Hi there. Is Francis Bonnefoy there?"

"_Papa's_ gone right now," the girl replied, voice thick with a childish French accent. "Who are you?"

"I'm Brandon Beilschmit. Could you tell him I called?"

"My papa said I not 'sposed to talk to strangers. Bye-bye."

He gaped when she hung up on him. Brandon turned to Roderich. "Monica," Roddy explained, gingerly taking a bite out of the old birthday cake Brandon had bought because he hadn't been to a birthday party in a while. When Sebastiaan moved out, and Brandon had only the company of Boudewijn and Lidewij-Maria to enjoy, he discovered he had an amazing lack of social life that meant no birthday parties to enjoy.

At least Brandon didn't have to leave his lovely, lonely shell to make new friends since he had found his old friends.

Roderich continued about Monica, explaining how she was quite the unorthodox toddler. Obviously any child that could break into a house at age two was going to be a bit "unorthodox".

However, Monica's existence led to another important question: "So, who's the dummy that married him?"

"That's quite rude, considering his first wife passed away," Roderich muttered disdainfully, effectively wiping the smirk off of Brandon's face. "Her name was Jeanne- the French girl he had always dreamed of. She was his son Matthew's mother. He only remarried three years ago to a Seychellois woman named Therese. He now has three children, including Michelle, Therese's daughter, and Monica, whom you seem to have met."

"Matthew and Michelle are normal," Heilrich included for their sakes. Brandon found that to be the most shocking. How any kid could end up normal in Heta was a mystery to him.

He decided to give up on calling anyone else for a while in favor of this time being the listener to some of their stories.

((((()))))

Lili rubbed her cold arms as she walked through the pale hospital hallways by herself, regretting that decision. She honestly hated this place. The only reason she had voluntarily gone to the hospital was to visit Gilbert. Well, and because she had had a check-up bright and early that morning, but Lili didn't want to think about that. After checking in on Gil, she would be leaving as soon as she could.

The girl sighed in relief when she found the right room, already open to welcome any potential visitors. Gilbert sat up in his bed, slowly slurping up Chinese noodles. He was obviously bored out of his wits, apathetically flipping through the channels of the TV in his room.

He perked up considerably when she daintily knocked on the door. Gilbert grinned widely. "Hey, Vash's kid! You didn't bring more food, did you?"

"Sorry, I didn't," she couldn't help but giggle. "Um, I just came by to say hello. Feli invited me to his sleepover last night, and after _Vati _threatened to throw him in jail for something or another, he told me about you. Um… I'm sorry I'm you're sick?"

"No biggie," he shrugged. "I'm just as awesome as always!"

She noticed how extra-pale his face was and how exhausted he looked, but she chose to ignore as when she lightly walked inside. "I'm glad you're feeling better," Lili smiled.

"So, what do I owe your gracious visit to? You're not the kind of person to want to bask in my radiating awesome," Gilbert said. Lili took notice of how decided against putting his takeout on the table because it would have been too tiring. She was starting to think this was a bad idea after all. Maybe she should have just left and asked someone else to help her with her problem.

But Gilbert had looked so _lonely…._

"Um… I actually wanted to ask you something. About Ludwig. And Lovino, I suppose."

He cocked an eyebrow at that, gesturing to the open seat beside him. "Random subject. But sure."

"Do you know why they hate each other?"

Gilbert wasn't exactly surprised- it wasn't often someone heard "Ludwig" and "Lovino" in the same sentence without a "hate" stuck in there somewhere.

Although it was difficult to discern when exactly Lovino decided to make Ludwig his arch-nemesis, Gilbert knew the moment that made it official was one of their first soccer matches when they were seven and utterly adorable. Seriously- the entire game, Gilbert and Antonio had sat together in the stand, cooing over how Lovino's random curl bounced as he ran and how Ludwig's hair kept falling in his face, infuriating him. Awesomely cuter than anything else in existence at that moment.

It wasn't long until they reached the last quarter of the game. It was a close call for both teams. In the last few seconds of the game, the ball ended up flying towards Lovino and Ludwig, hoping to stop it before it went in the other team's goal. Lovino ran forward to kick it the exact same time Ludwig did, so they got entangled in each other, fell down in an incredibly embarrassing way, and let the ball get past them and into the goal, making them lose the game.

Since it was the last game of the season, it was understandable that Lovino wouldn't be very happy that they had lost because of him. However, because Ludwig was also involved in this incident, Lovino channeled all of his anger and shame at Ludwig, initializing what was to be a lifelong hate-ship.

Gilbert grinned when Lili's mouth dropped open. "That's _it?_" she asked incredulously. "Lovino hates him that much because he _tripped?_"

"That kid's anger issues are not be taken lightly," Gilbert merely shrugged, smirk becoming positively wicked. "And I know it isn't really that funny since they were kids and it obviously ruined his little seven-year-old life, but the way his face got so red was just hilarious. Even Antonio was laughing!"

"Laughing at what?" a new voice sourly demanded.

They turned to see Lovino, clearly not amused, and tailed by Feliciano, Kiku, and Ludwig. Lili gave up her seat for Ludwig, who looked on the verge of going into shock again. For a split second, when no one was really paying attention to him, Feliciano let his face slide into deep grimace. However, his pleasant expression was back as soon as Lili gave him and Lovino a group hug. She politely bowed to Kiku, aware he had touchy-feeling issues. "We were talking about one of Gil's lame jokes. Your _vati _thought it was funny, though."

"_Pap _thinks string cheese is hilarious," Lovino grumbled. He certainly looked as awkward and out of place as he obviously felt when he offered a Gilbert a wave of greeting. "Do you need a ride? I'm not staying. I've got… stuff to do."

Lili pushed the giggle back down her throat. Lovino didn't like hospitals for obvious reasons. Feliciano and Kiku joined Ludwig at Gilbert's side, so he was able to relax just the tiniest bit around her, though. "I drove in _Vati's_ car, so I better head home. I'm going to church with you tomorrow, right?"

"I'm going to make you Catholic before the year's out," Lovino swore. Lili knew Vash definitely wouldn't like that- he was as strictly and stubbornly protestant as they came- but it was interesting, going back and forth like this.

"Then I'll make sure you're a Calvinist before the end of summer," she jokingly shot back. They said their goodbyes to everyone and walked out to the parking lot together. After checking for Vash potentially hiding in any bushes, they kissed, and went their separate ways.

Lili didn't go home.

She checked for any potential spies watching her as she parked in front of the old house. It wasn't as scary looking in daylight, thankfully, so she could sit a while and think inside without getting any chills.

Now that she knew the (actually kind of stupid) reason why Lovino hated Ludwig so much, she could find a way to try and get them to reconcile with each other. If anything, she had to accomplish at least that goal. Graduation was next week, so she was on a short schedule since she wouldn't be going on their trip. Even though Arthur's tape had shattered everything, Kiku still thought going to Amsterdam would be a good idea. Alice, according to Feliciano, was with Lars after an interesting three years that introduced her to another brother and her mother.

Lili really wished she could see Alice one more time. She wanted to thank her, and to apologize.

The living room and remainder of the first floor was just as dusty and foul-smelling as before, so she quickly made her way over to the stairs. She hadn't gotten to look upstairs that crazy, so she might as well take a peek now.

When she heard a quiet voice down the hall, Lili's breath froze in her throat. With the dust already choking her up, Lili had to cough into her hands or risk choking. The voice went silent.

Carefully and warily, Bong Chung stuck her head out the door.

The two girls stared at each other in mild shock for a long time, neither one quite sure of what they could say to this sort of inopportune meeting. Bong Chung happened to find her voice first, although it stuttered. "H-hello, Lili. Um."

"I guess you like coming here too?" Lili offered. She winced at the slight wheezing to her voice. Upstairs, the dust was thicker, and not good for her lungs.

"Let's go downstairs."

Downstairs, they sat the dining table. Bong Chung was wearing one of Xiao Mei's shirts that was slightly baggy on her. She explained her adventures last night, arriving just as Kiku was leaving. According to her, it is indeed possible to play DDR for three hours straight, though it left her feeling dead when she woke up.

Lili laughed, and shared her own misadventures. Story time with Gilbert was always an interesting occasion- especially after hearing his rendition of the Christmas story. _Really, Gilbert. Pirates in Judea?_

"So why did you come here?" Bong Chung finally asked, phone in her hands on her lap. She sat rim-rod straight in her chair, always a picture of elegance.

Lili straightened up a little before answering. "I came here two weeks ago with Lovino, Feliciano, and Ludwig. I thought I could come back and… just hang around, I suppose. May I ask why you're here?"

"I heard about this place from Yong Soo, who heard about it from Alfred," she explained. Lili found it odd how her eyes momentarily broke gaze with her. Was she lying? But that was absurd. Lili didn't know her very well, but she knew Bong Chung was a nice, honest girl. Bong Chung slightly shrugged. "I guess I wanted to see it for myself."

Lili nodded. In the ensuing silence, she took the time to really look around the room. Like the exterior looked nicer, the inside was cozier as well. If wasn't so old and dusty it could still be a lovely house. Lili could see herself living in a place like this one day.

Something lodged in her throat. Sure it was tears, Lili quickly spoke up again. "So, Bong Chung. How about we explore this place a little? Maybe look at it from the outside, too?"

Bong Chung smiled and nodded. "Sure."

Lili was glad to be outside where she was able to breathe easier. Still, Bong Chung walked slowly and kept peeking back at her, as if making sure she was alright. She really was nice, Lili figured. Maybe it had been her imagination before, when she thought Bong Chung could have been lying. After all, she didn't even have a reason to hide anything.

Doubt still nagged at her, despite her best efforts to quench it. "Upstairs, who were you talking to?"

When Bong Chung went pale, Lili regretted asking. She stopped at the back porch, old, dark wood sagging from mold and mildew. The ornate carvings on the posts were chipped white dotted with pale green, giving them a sort of sad beauty. Everything about this house was sad, really. Had nothing good ever happened here?

Lili decided she would do something good today. "It's okay," she softly told Bong Chung. "I promise I won't tell or anything."

Bong Chung's grip on her phone tightened. There was no hiding that, and she knew it. She let a tired exhaled and fell back against one of the porch posts. "I… I'm not supposed to tell, but I think it's starting to tear me apart," she said honestly, the misery in her voice taking away her forced elegance. "Will you promise to keep quiet about all of this? Since you only have a week with them, only you can know."

She knew she wasn't allowed to go on the trip? Well, not that that was very surprising- everyone, even Bong Chung, knew how Vash was. Lili nodded at her imploring look. A grim smile unfurled on her face. "Believe me, you don't have to worry about. I doubt I'll see any of them after this summer."

"Because your tests are starting to come back worse?" the Korean girl quietly guessed.

The smile was still on her face, but tears were starting to well up in her eyes. "Yeah," Lili agreed, biting her lip. "They are. But I'm here to listen to you, Bong Chung. They're not giving me a lot of time, so I've got to make the most of it, right? Let's sit down here, and you can tell me everything, from the very beginning."

She did start from the beginning- fifteen years ago. Bong Chung was too young to remember it, but she had heard from her mother as the years dragged on. Her father had killed two people- the parents of five boys who were still just kids. He had killed them because he wanted to take their money and buy her a crib.

Bong Chung grated it all out when her own infuriated tears- how her father was later caught and arrested when she was ten, how, in her grief, Bong Chung's mother got involved with the wrong people that promised to get them to Heta if only they-

Lili rubbed her shoulder when she had to stop and wipe at her tears. "I have to lie so much," Bong Chung cried. "I have to lie even more than you."

Although Lili doubted that was true, she kept her mouth shut and dug through her purse for some tissues. Bong Chung thanked her and took a deep breath. "How much do you know about Brandon Beilschmit?"

Lili knew Brandon was dead, but by her tone, that apparently was not the case.

"Brandon lives in Luxembourg someplace. The man that got us here- he's indebted to him, I think. He won't tell me why, but he wanted me to tell you all about him so you'd find him when you went on your trip. I was the one who told Tavian about this house. He told Feliks, who asked Ludwig to come. I was the one who hid that other video in Mr. Kirkland's old house. All this time, I've been trying to let you know more and more about him."

"But Feliciano and Ludwig found Gilbert's old videos of him," Lili finally said.

Bong Chung mirthlessly laughed. "That was a stroke of fate, then. The man gave me a picture of Brandon to frame upstairs. I thought that would be the first time Ludwig would see him."

Lili nodded, but Bong Chung had said her peace. She handed her another tissue. "Why don't you just come out and tell them?"

"Because Yong Soo will find out I've…."

Bong Chung shook her head and stood, dusting off her skirt. She readjusted the pink headphones around her neck and helped Lili to her feet. Before Bong Chung had time to escape, Lili caught her with a hug. "I promise I won't tell so long as you don't tell them about me. But, eventually, we're going to have to tell the truth sooner or later. Yong Soo won't hate you. He's simply too nice."

"You're almost too nice as well," Bong Chung told her. Lili nodded. She was definitely too nice for her own good, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from making a difference this summer. She would make Lovino like Ludwig, she would get Brandon to come to America and see Gilbert, she would make sure Bong Chung wouldn't be left to live a lie alone.

Lili was tired of being the one everyone took care of. It was her turn to repay them.

**Translations**

**German-**

_**Liebe- Love**_


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm sorry there's no Brandon this chapter! Instead, we get… reason to pull out the pitchforks on me again. Um… try not to kill me too bad? XD**

**AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FRIEND ROSA! IT'S REALLY LATE AND I'M SORRY. X'D**

**Also, to everyone affected by the storms, I hope you all are doing okay and any repairs are going along well.**

**Chapter 15-**

"Home sweet home," Lars mumbled.

Alice and Sebastiaan shared a frown. The rundown flat they had arrived at didn't exactly seem like a lovely abode. However, it certainly looked like something Lars could fit into his cheap budget. Just feet behind the three ran the busiest street Alice had ever seen, angry horns blazing and red lights glaring through the afternoon sun.

Lars was completely unfazed.

Inside didn't seem to look much better than the exterior with the dry carpeting and cramped space. There were plenty of expensive paintings to found, however. Alice wasn't exactly an expert on art, but she could recognize a Rembrandt when she saw one. Slightly gulping at the vague answer she was going to get, Alice had to ask, "Where did you get these?"

"Clients."

Sebastiaan literally stopped. "Clients?" he slowly repeated. "Um… what kind of business do you conduct, anyway?"

Almost as if in answer, a woman popped up at the end of the hall. Even Alice had to gape at her, plain, almost shabby clothing, unfixed and slightly tangled dark hair, and someone who definitely didn't look like she'd be associating with Lars. If she had broken in to steal his paintings-

That wasn't quite the case. "I told you I was taking a vacation, Ekata."

"You never gave me my papers, Lars," she said pointedly in horrible Dutch. Obviously, she wasn't native to the Netherlands. Ekata pursed her lips- painted a shiny red- and looked Alice and Sebastiaan over. "These are the siblings you spoke of? Glad I could help. They look positively precious."

Lars quietly pointed them to the kitchen, about the size of a large German Shepherd. Alice went quietly, taking Bast's hand and leading him with her. "I guess this is what he meant by 'international communications'," Alice sighed, hopping up on the counter to prevent claustrophobia from taking hold of her. She frowned and pushed an empty box of takeout away from her. Too many memories of her own takeout dinners rammed into her. Back in Heta, Lars had been able to strike an unknown deal with Yao that let them get discounted meals. Alice never found out what that deal was, exactly, but she hoped it didn't have something to do with international communications.

Sebastiaan was smart enough to keep quiet until, just a few minutes later, Ekata passed by them again, a dark briefcase held close in her arms. She stopped to wink and blow them a kiss before, in perfect Indonesian, she said, "_Anda memiliki kakak menakjubkan. Cherish dia. Dia suci._"

Lars saw her to the door, a new cigar in his mouth, scowl the same as it always was. "_Selamat tinggal_."

Once Ekata was gone, silence decided to pay them a visit. Lars took to nudging his shoes into a straighter line against the hallway. Sebastiaan was stuck into an owlish stare that probably wouldn't go away any time soon.

"When did you learn Indonesian?" Alice finally asked, voice full of pep. She wasn't successful in drawing normalcy back to the room, but Sebastiaan did break his stare-down with the tiny fridge.

Lars shrugged. "I dunno. A while ago? I've had to learn bits and pieces of a lot of Asian stuff this year."

"Y-you illegally bring people into Amsterdam?" Sebastiaan stuttered. He shook his head, looking to his socked feet. "You're a criminal. My older brother is a _criminal. _Dad is going to kill me for th-"

"Brandon did it first," Lars grinned. He let out a laugh at his boggled expression. "Gosh, kid. How innocent are you? Maybe I should let you spend a few minutes in the Red Light- that'd straighten you right up."

Alice rolled her eyes. Lars was kidding, of course. He probably hadn't stepped foot into such a place before. For all of his questionable deeds, Lars _was _a moral guy. Dishonest was not the same as sleazy.

As he gave them the short grand tour of his humble abode, Alice noticed more of his _different_ furnishings. A beautifully woven Iranian rug lay in the living room. Countless paintings and screens littered the walls, hailing from various locations from across the globe.

"For the record, Bast, I'm not _completely _illegal. In fact, I like to think of my occupation as one that merely aids immigrants in the tough job of moving. I help them perfect their Dutch or English. Then, I provide them with the appropriate funding to get them into the country of their choosing. Sometimes, yes, I do throw in a forged passport or two, but only to those who really need it. For example, a couple from North Korea that wanted to get away and raise their kid in peace. That kind of backfired a little, but they've done well in repaying me."

"You snuck people out of North Korea?" Alice burst.

Lars didn't meet her eyes and continued. "In return, I've gotten all kinds of cool stuff. Have you ever seen a three-foot-tall jade carving of Buddha? It's pretty sweet. Those who didn't have something to give do me small favors. Half of these small favors have been for your benefits, actually."

Sebastiaan froze once more. He was _part _of these illegal dealings?

Alice had to say she was a bit wary too. Lars was not magnanimous. _At all_. Eighty percent of his actions were to his benefit only. She sincerely doubted something as valuable as a "favor" would be used on them. Alice had never gotten an allowance in her life, and most of her birthday and Christmas presents had been bought at flea markets, dollar stores, or simply recycled from unknown sources. If Francis hadn't insisted on baking her a cake each year, Alice had a feeling she would have been stuck with a cookie and free frosty, courtesy of a coupon.

By the way, Lars had no closer friend than his box of coupons. He, dare she say it, _loved _that thing. Actual love, too. It was a bit unnerving.

"Do you remember meeting a man named Tom Renuiso, Sebastiaan?" Lars asked, falling back on his couch. It wasn't as beat-up as the rest of the furniture, but it certainly had seen its good share of long years. "I sent him over to Luxembourg to work for Brandon. Should have helped you with your algebra work?"

The paleness of his face told them he indeed remembered this Tom. Lars snuffed out his cigar, and gestured for them to sit down with him. "'Course, I help the folks back in Heta a little, too. I gave Francis the best mailman ever. Patric Ardensil? Funny kid. Wanted to run away from home, always wanted to see America. He was my late wedding gift, I suppose."

Only Lars would consider a mailman a wedding gift.

He suddenly looked like he regretted putting out the cigar. Sebastiaan didn't seem to notice the slight change in his face, but Alice knew him well enough to tell when Lars was sad about something.

Did he regret leaving Heta like Alice regretted leaving him? Lars had had plenty of friends in Heta, like everyone except Antonio and Lovino. He treated Matthew like his second brother sometimes, and actually allowed Alfred to borrow money from him on occasion.

All of sudden, it occurred to Alice that she knew next to nothing about Lars. Not even a life spent with him allowed her to see his secrets. This flat was proof of that. Since when was Lars into art and culture? Had long had he been smuggling people into various countries? By the way he talked so easily about Brandon, they must have often kept in touch, helping each other in their "jobs". Speaking of whom- just how many secrets had Brandon kept from Sebastiaan? He hadn't even told him about Heta. How could he have _not _blabbed about Gilbert?

It was like Alice was in a new world now, and everything she had come to know was completely different. Maybe Lars was more generous than she gave him credit for. Maybe, all this time, he had a heart of gold he was afraid to show.

Or maybe not.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about Brandon?"

Lars's eyes went wide. Alice couldn't help but feel slightly victorious for catching Lars off guard like that. Unfortunately, he gave her an excuse of ordering dinner for them. Before he had even left the room, there was another cigar between his lips.

((((()))))

Toris, once again, was in quite an interesting situation with Feliks. Somehow, Feliks had convinced him to drop his chores and come to Tavian's coffee shop with him. His dear Polish friend had claimed he had "a totes epic story to, like, tell you, Liet!", and refused to accept any of Toris's (valid) excuses. So, as always, Toris had given in and now sat at the counter, envying Tavian for having earplugs. It was a bit rude, he had to admit, but if it was the only way to make Feliks shut up for just a little while….

"Like, look at these, Liet! LOOK!" Feliks shouted, pulling out a concert ticket. It was covered in Polish, so Toris had no hope of deciphering it. However, it wasn't very hard to guess which artist's concert it was for.

Toris and Tavian sighed along with Feliks's squeal: "IT'S DODA!"

Feliks clutched the ticket to his chest, eyes practically transforming into little hearts, like Kiku's manga characters. "Like, _o mój Boże_, do you, like, know how much I freaking _adore_ Doda? She is, like, sooooo talented and drop-dead gorgeous and so much better than that German poser chick Doro that, like, the geometry teacher dude is in love with. I mean, what the heck? Doda is the one he should, like, obsess over!"

Oh, Lord, he was started on Mr. Frost again. Toris quickly redirected his attention to him before he could start shouting nasty Polish everywhere. "That's great, Pol! Where's she going to be at?"

"First of all," Feliks interjected, poking his nose, "you are to refer to the living, walking talent that is Doda as 'her _niesamowite _royal Highness'. Second, she's coming to Warsaw, and since we're totes going to Europe, I'll just drag you there!"

"Uh, _me?_"

Feliks presented a second ticket to him, and a third for Tavian. At their slightly flabbergasted and _why is it always me? _expressions, Feliks punched the air and yelled, "We're going to party in Warsaw, baby!"

Of course, this was totally going to backfire. Even the most harmless plans Feliks came up with turned out horrible. Their adventure at the "haunted" house was proof enough of that. The three of them alone in Europe would probably end up with someone dead- at the very least, seriously maimed.

"Silly Toris," Feliks scoffed. "You just, like, worry too much! This is going to be the most fun ever."

Oh, yes. The most fun ever. Like dyeing Aria's bridesmaids' dresses, or playing tag while carrying a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a lighter. Toris was only glad they been able to put out the fire before he went bald.

But this was the happiest he'd seen Feliks in a while. After the floor incident and his screw up at lunch, Feliks hadn't been acting as Feliks-like as he usually did. Toris had felt terrible for accidentally acting like a jerk on so many new levels.

_It's not your fault, Kiddo._

Toris couldn't help but flinch at the voice in his head. He let out a sigh. "I'm sure Doda will be a blast, Pol, but I really need to get home. I can't leave Raivis alone forever."

Feliks put on a massive pout but thankfully realized the importance of brotherly duties. Sullenly shoving his ticket at him, Feliks waved him off. He was enthusiastically waving goodbye before Toris made it outside. There was a smile on his face when he waved back, but Toris didn't exactly feel happy.

He fought to push the annoying memories out of his head. Family 3 had been, by far, the worst. After half a year in the system due to family 2's disaster, this couple had adopted him as a replacement for their son who ran away. They had told the social workers that he had moved out legally to get a job, but it was all too obvious that he hadn't left for innocent reasons. The couple wasn't as bad as he had initially anticipated. They weren't crazy and didn't have staggering expectations for him. In fact, they were almost normal.

Until their son came home, of course. Stefan was a nice man in his twenties who just had family issues. He was peeved to be forced to come home because of money, but wasn't too angry that Toris had popped up to take his place. Actually, Stefan kind of liked him. Toris was probably the only reason Stefan had decided to stay home once he had stabilized himself.

He stayed with them for almost a year, witnessing fights between Stefan and his parents, but Toris always broke them up. He was the best mediator the family had ever had. With Stefan home, Toris found himself turning into a shadow that was constantly keeping the house and household clean and peaceful. He found it was easier to be ignored instead of being the center of attention. Perhaps that was why the first families hadn't worked out?

One day, everything decided to change, once again throwing Toris into a mess he couldn't pick up. Stefan had just snapped at the dinner table, fed up with the snide remarks his father didn't bother to hide, and with his mother's disapproving grimaces and sighs. Toris had never found out what had started this, but he knew he had to be the one to end it. Before Stefan and his father's yelling could worry the neighbors, Toris timidly intervened. He led Stefan away, promising that things would get better eventually. One day, he and his parents would see eye to eye.

Stefan disagreed. Instead of sticking around, he decided to leave again. This time, however, he was going to bring Toris along. No matter how many times Toris tried to convince him otherwise, Stefan wouldn't listen. He told him how he'd take care of him- finally give him a life he'd actually like. Stefan promised a lot of things both of them knew would never happen. Stefan was still broke, and they'd be in a lot of trouble for running away again.

That same night, he heard his "parents" having the same talk he had endured twice already.

_Maybe we weren't ready for a second son. I don't think he really likes us anyway. He doesn't have any friends here, either. Back at the orphanage-_

He and Stefan left a few hours after they went to bed. They blindly drove for hours. Toris was in charge of finding them a cheap hotel- Stefan had a credit card, but he was shy of using it until he found a job. Toris would look for something too. He was only fourteen, so he'd probably be confined to bag boy at Food City or something. Still, it would help, and that was all that mattered.

Toris never should have deluded himself into thinking that kind of arrangement could work. Stefan's parents found them by the end of the week. Toris was thrown back in the system, once again unwanted, unneeded, and not useful. He hadn't only failed to stay in one family for a year, but he had left Stefan alone with a choice to live with his parents or try and make it on his own. He never saw them again, like he never saw Family 1 or 2 again.

Family 4 was a work in progress. He had lasted in this one far longer than the others, but he hadn't done a very good job of making things right here, either. Everything went wrong almost immediately upon his arrival. He couldn't possibly be blamed for Lili getting sick, or for Feliciano's grandpa dying and that horrible day at the wedding. The one thing he could truly blame himself for was Feliks.

If he had written him in the time he was in Poland, would things have really gone so badly? What if, instead of going to that concert in Warsaw, he and Anelie decided to come to Heta and visit him? So many things could have gone differently.

But he really didn't want to think about that now. Instead, Toris thought of the positives: Wednesday, three days away, he'd be graduating. A few days after that they'd hopefully be in Europe, split up to visit Alice and Lars or to watch Doda live in concert. Honestly, he really thought this trip could do wonders for them, making them forget about Brandon and now Gilbert. Maybe Doda could help Toris keep his mind on something different, too.

_Three more days, and we'll be free._

((((()))))

The dark-haired man stepped out of the airport and took in a deep breath of the new, foreign air. He wasn't sure why he had decided to come back to Europe after so long, but he figured it was as good a place as any to try and start over. Again. How many times was this, now? It didn't matter, though. Once again, after royally screwing up something that could have finally paid off for him, he ran away.

_You're such a washout._

The kid was right. He was someone horrible, and everyone knew it. Well… hopefully not _everyone._ The Netherlands was pretty far from America and his past. With any luck, he would be able to settle down somewhere and start over. Really, any place would have been perfect, so long as he never saw any of _them _again.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't blame them for having America turn their backs on him. Once it all sank in, and he realized just what he had done, he discovered he hated himself quite a bit. However, that he could eventually get over. After all, he had easily forgotten the way his "little brother" had believed in him, trusted him, and how, once it all fell apart, he had felt so betrayed by him.

"It's not your fault, Kiddo," he muttered under his breath, setting off towards the taxi he had called in. Toris's face popped up in his face. However, it was starting to blend with another all too familiar face. His green eyes started to darken into a amber, his hair growing shorter and taking on a lighter shade of brown. This new face was completely different from Toris's. This kid he had utterly betrayed as well, but it wasn't the same. He had tried to help Toris. He had given up hope with this one. "It's not your fault, it's all mine."

Thankfully, since he knew only a little Dutch from the cheap guidebook he had bought earlier at the airport, the taxi driver spoke English. The man handed him the address to what would hopefully be the last place he would call home. "Alright, Mister…-"

"Stephen Kiryakov," he answered, hoping that using his real name wouldn't blow his cover. If anyone recognized him- for months had he been forced to hear his horrible story on TV- he would be sure there was no place he could start over in this time.

He really hoped three years ago hadn't been his last chance.

The driver merely nodded, so he allowed a grin to pop up on his face. "Thanks," he sincerely said.

"Any time. I just have to ask, though."

_Darn it._

"You're not here to see Lars Johannes, are you?"

He was completely caught off guard. "L-Lars Johannes?" he stuttered. He shook his head, trying to stifle his surprise. "No, sorry. Haven't heard of him."

The driver shrugged and the car started rolling back onto the street. "A lot of newcomers usually come through him, you see. I'd bet he's the reason Amsterdam has seen so many new immigrants in the past three years. You might want to pay him a visit anyway. I hear he gives good Dutch lessons."

"Oh. Uh, sure. Thanks again."

"Any time. You know… Amsterdam is a good place to start over in. No one really cares around here. But just in case, you might want to get a better alias. Maybe dye your hair."

The man sighed and wilted back into the backseat. "It was broadcast worldwide, then. Was it really such big news?"

The driver chuckled. "When a bunch of kids crash a wedding, it's big news. Ah, here's your stop, 'Stephen'. How'd you come up with that, anyway?"

"It's my first name," he answered, shouldering his carry-on. "I'm Stephen Marco Kiryakov. I started using my middle name when I met Aria."

He nodded thoughtfully. After retrieving his luggage, the driver nodded him off to his rickety destination. "Should I give you Lars's address?"

At Marco's shrug, the driver took out a notepad and pen. He scribbled a moment and handed it to him. The address wasn't too far away from him, actually. Marco had actually looked at the apartments there. None of them had exactly looked like anything special, so he figured they could have been a decent hiding place. This flat, however, was even more inconspicuous.

"Can I ask one more thing?" the driver asked, leaning over the top of the open driver's side door. He stared at the pavement a moment, taking Marco's silence as an "Okay". When he looked up, Marco wilted to see _that _question in his eye. "Seriously, though. Why would you…? You had a lot going for you, and to do something like that-"

"Thanks for everything," he muttered, unlocking the door and hiding himself within the new, peaceful darkness. The man wasted no time in driving off outside, and Marco allowed himself to sigh once he couldn't hear the taxi engine any more.

He hated that question. Everyone that recognized him had to ask. Marco never answered- mostly because he wasn't so sure himself.

Before he could get back to thinking about _them_, he shook his head and reminded himself he was completely out of the picture now. He had crossed the Atlantic to get away! Shoving all of that aside and fervently trying to get Feliciano's face out of his head, Marco faced his new home with a faltering smirk.

"Well, home sweet home, I guess."

**Translations**

**Indonesian-**

_**Anda memiliki kakak menakjubkan. Cherish dia. Dia suci.- You have an amazing older brother. Cherish him. He's a saint.**_

_**Selamat tinggal.- Goodbye.**_

**Polish-**

_**O mój Boże- oh my gosh**_

_**Niesamowite - awesome**_


	16. Chapter 16

**HOMESTUCK HAS COMPLETELY TAKEN OVER MY LIFE NOW. **

**XD Merry (early) Christmas, since I am almost positive I won't get another chapter in until after the holidays.**

**Chapter 16-**

"Shut up, Francis. My life is over."

"No it's not. You just think it is."

"I _just _saw them standing near the bleachers, _kissing! _Lizzie and _Roderich!_"

Gilbert grabbed at his hair, starting to feel the beginnings of hyperventilation. How worse could this stupid night get? Samantha and Arthur were already out to get him, enacting any and every form of revenge to get back at him for years of being excessively awesome. Because of their shenanigans, Antonio had already left the building stuttering sobbed Spanish. Gilbert hadn't been able to discern any information on what they had done because he was having difficulty speaking English at the moment. Francis was just as on-edge as him, just waiting for his surprise to pop up and smack him in the pretty face.

Everyone else, of course, was having the time of their lives at prom, dancing to the best of the eighties and sipping sour punch and munching on stupid mini sandwiches. Aside from the awesome food, prom was mediocre. That wasn't really the point, Gilbert knew- the point of prom was coming to a party with his friends to convince him to do something incredibly stupid like finally asking out Elizabeta.

That all came crashing down when he discovered the love of his life was currently making out with his cousin. Of all the unawesome losers in the school (which was basically everyone except for himself, Francis, and Antonio), she had to discover she had a thing for _Roderich?_ There was no one more unawesome on the planet than Roderich! What the heck?

Francis tightly sighed and rolled his eyes. He assuredly took Gilbert's shoulders, shaking him into attention. "Listen, _mon ami._ It's probably a trick. This has Samantha written all over it."

"Really? I see _utter and complete unawesome betrayal _written all over it," he sullenly countered, eyes straying to the heinous couple, lips thankfully not all over each other, but hands still being held with eyes locked on each other with matching smiles.

Geez, he really had to work on the grammar in his freaking-out mind. Francis jerked his chin back to him, but Gilbert stubbornly kept looking at them from the corner of his eye. "You're being pathetic, Gilbert! You're never like this!"

"It's called being in love- you should try it some time! By the way, dating half of the freshman class doesn't count."

"That was two years ago and because I lost a bet with Arthur."

Yeah. Lost a bet. That was totally it.

However, before he could spew out his next hateful response to that, a thought suddenly occurred to him. Two years ago. That would make them juniors now, meaning they were able to attend prom-

Well. Francis was a goner.

Gilbert shortly left him to face his inevitable doom at the hands of several ticked females that certainly hadn't forgotten his lecherous sophomore deeds. He hadn't even made it out of the gym before his breath started to leave him again. Two years ago. Sophomore year. Elizabeta and her camcorder, Roderich at the butt of their jokes, Brandon-

He didn't even notice he had plowed straight into a girl before he heard her hiccup, "A-are you okay?"

Furiously stuffing his stupid feelings back to the recesses of his mind, Gilbert turned with an apology on his tongue. It disappeared when he noticed the girl was currently wiping at her eyes with a fury like his own. His first thought was to mention that wiping like that was only smearing her makeup everywhere, but he reminded himself of Francis's girl advice (rule 76: never tell a girl what first comes to mind). Instead, despite the fact that Arthur was currently his second worst enemy (Roderich was first), he decided to pull out the gentleman in him.

It took a while to drag the fool out, but Gilbert finally asked, "Hey, are you okay?"

She fervently nodded, unsuccessfully trying to duck her head away. It might have worked if she had long, teased hair like the rest of the female population, but her blonde hair was chopped short and pristinely straight. "I'm fine," she kindly snapped. With that said, she started to walk past him, but Gilbert's hand grabbed her wrist. Apparently his inner-gentleman had a mind of his own.

"Yeah, you totally look like you're fine," Gilbert said, pulling her back. He put on his best pout, trying for a comedic route to try and make her feel better. For all he knew, she could have been a victim of Samantha and Arthur's. "Tonight is supposed to be the awesomest night ever. One that we're supposed to remember forever and all that crap. You heard the principal drone about it yesterday, I'm sure."

She allowed him a tired nod. "Supposed to be. It's not so awesome when you're dumped before the first slow song."

Oh. Or she could be experiencing non-Samantha and Arthur related troubles. Suddenly alive with awkwardness, Gilbert winced and tried to give his best understanding nod. That was another of Francis's rules- try to look like you empathize with whatever the girl is saying. Though Gilbert didn't really need to try, because he did empathize with her. He forced himself to keep looking at her rather let his eyes trail over to where Elizabeta and Roderich still were. "Uh… you, um, wanna talk about it?"

"I wanna punch someone in the face, if that's what you mean by talking about it," she grumbled. "My name is Helda."

"The awesomely awesome Gilbert Beilschmit at your service, madam," he less-than-humbly grinned, giving a sweeping bow. He was triumphant to hear her chuckle.

Helda nodded, crossing her arms. "That's right. I've heard of you, Mr. Beilschmit. You're the guy who has Adjective Diversity Deficiency."

And the grin was wiped right off of his face. Helda now wore a smirk of her own. Gilbert slowly shook his head. "I haven't heard of you, so I can only assume Arthur has paid you to force me into making a fool of myself."

"Kirkland?" she asked in surprise. "When did he turn so devious? I thought he usually spent his time PMSing instead of plotting."

"Ever met Samantha Jones?"

"Ah, right."

If Gilbert had been paying just the tiniest bit attention to the rest of the prom, he would have noticed how Francis was screaming for help in the corner of the gym, surrounded by some _very _peeved juniors. He also might have seen Samantha and Arthur spying on him with floored gapes on their faces from the top of the bleachers, expecting him to have stormed out by now.

Elizabeta and Roderich walked not five feet away from him, headed towards the cafeteria where they could hopefully find something better than some mini sandwiches, like cake. Aria had found and dragged Antonio, who was feeling much better now, inside again. Although Gilbert didn't bother to look, they were dancing and attracting their own awed fanbase.

Instead of them, Gilbert noticed something about Helda. She had stopped crying over this jerk that dumped her on prom of all nights. Also, _Heat of the Moment _by Asia was coming to a close. The next song that started playing, as announced by the DJ, was the first slow song of the evening.

The soft piano of _Faithfully _by Journey began playing, and couples everywhere starting pulling closer together. Arms hung around shoulders and waists, smiles suddenly turned incredibly sappy.

Helda's face, however, fell as she faced the congregation again. She landed her eyes on a lone boy at the punch table. Gilbert narrowed his glare at the individual. He had a strong urge to go and throttle the kid, but something told him Helda wouldn't appreciate that, even if he was doing it for her sake. The punch table guy looked over at them. Out of spite, Gilbert stuck his tongue out and threw his arms around her.

Helda went rigid, red, and wide-eyed all at once. "What are you doing?"

"Making this a night to remember," Gilbert muttered. She only hesitated a moment before shrugging and lacing her fingers behind his neck.

Neither looked at the other's face, finally choosing to see how the rest of the Jude student body attending the prom was doing. Gilbert had to break out into laughter upon seeing four girls pulling at Francis's hair while the others ganged up on him. Helda looked over her shoulder at the sight and rolled her eyes. "Please don't tell me you're friends with Bonnefoy."

"Since kindergarten," he cackled. "Poor sap ain't having much of an awesome night either, is he. Haha, and 'Tonio's back! Way to go, Vargas!"

"The Spanish kid, too?"

"Also known as Gilbert Beilschmit's second lackey," he properly introduced, finally flickering his eyes back to look at her.

She somehow looked different now, just inches from his face instead of the respectable distance from before. Helda's makeup was still smeared, but he saw the most stunning pair of blue eyes behind it all. He had thought Elizabeta had beautiful eyes, but Helda was something else entirely. Elizabeta's held so many old memories in them that always reminded him of the good times long ago. Helda's… well, he couldn't really place what it was, but she was special too.

Helda remained oblivious to his stare for the longest time, looking out at everyone else with a soft smile on her face.

"…Thank you, Gilbert," she eventually said. The song was ending, so, before they could leave to go their separate ways, she pecked him a quick kiss on the cheek. With faces blazing, they broke apart and took off in different directions.

Gilbert ended up in the cafeteria with Francis and Antonio just a while later, where they remained most of the night in fear of having something worse happen tonight. Much to Francis and Antonio's shock, Gilbert didn't seem to particularly care that Elizabeta and Roderich sat a mere two tables in front of them, hands still fast together between their seats.

They were even more shocked when, an hour before midnight, a pretty blonde girl with freshly applied makeup came over to sit with them.

"I believe your plan worked, Mr. Beilschmit," she said over the quiet buzz in the room, just barely audible over the echoing music from the gym.

"I'm glad," he grinned back.

"Glad about what?"

Gilbert blinked his eyes open, taking in a highly undecorated room rather than a decked-out cafeteria. He frowned at being so rudely awakened from an awesome dream. Helda put up her hands in defense, turning back to her cupcake and thick book. On the table beside her sat a tray covered in neatly frosted cupcakes, each screaming out _I'm a product of Ludwig's boredom and worry!_.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, ignoring the dull ache in his side. "When did Luddy come by again?"

"Before he went to school," she said, presenting him with one of the cupcakes. He wasted no time in shoveling it down. Gilbert might have mercilessly teased Ludwig for his girly baking, but he still loved his cupcakes. "He said he had an exam, then he'll be back as soon as it's over."

Gilbert dejectedly swallowed the last bit of cupcake. "He doesn't need to come all the way here," he muttered. "He needs to be there so can keep the rest of the kids from choosing to go somewhere stupid."

"They've already decided, I think," Helda said. At his look, she shrugged. "We didn't want to wake you up. He said they're going to visit Alice in Amsterdam. Aria said she's paying for the tickets, of course. I was thinking of donating towards food?"

"Yeah," Gilbert nodded in agreement. He let out a tired huff. "When can I-"

"If you're about to ask me again when you can get out of here, I'm going to smack you."

He promptly shut up. Helda amusedly shook her head, looking back to her book. It almost surprised her when Gilbert spoke again so soon. "You never knew Brandon, did you."

She put the book away, silently marking her place with a pen. Then, just as softly, she shrugged. "I'm sure I might have seen him before, but no, I never knew him personally."

"Then what do you think happened? Do you think he's really gone, or…."

She hadn't heard that question in such a long time. The last time Helda recalled him mentioning something about Brandon was at one of Ludwig's younger birthdays. No one was particularly listening at the moment, all trying to tear Lovino off of Ludwig (Helda had told Antonio bringing him along would be a bad idea, but he never seemed to understand just how much Lovino hated Ludwig).

This birthday, Roderich had showed up since he had a show in a few days in the closest city to Heta. Everyone had adopted the idea that he was technically Ludwig's uncle, and no one bothered to correct the kids.

Gilbert stood off to the side of the room, faintly grinning at the fight before him, reigning in the German Shepherds so they couldn't join in and make matters worse. He shook his head. "Brandon would flip out, knowing he'd been replaced by _Roddy._ Hey, Helda? What do _you_ think happened?"

She hadn't had a clear answer for him than besides a simple, "That's for him to know, isn't it?"

Francis then walked in with the cake, and Gilbert was forced to start a chorus of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Helda didn't really know what Brandon even looked like, since she'd never seen any pictures besides one from a yearbook that been lost a long time ago. But at that moment, she wondered, had Brandon never left, if he'd have one arm slung around Gilbert's shoulders, crowing along to the song with a giant grin on his face. That was the kind of person she'd made him to be, but then again, no one really knows what kind of person someone else is. Maybe he really did kill himself. Maybe he wanted to start over somewhere else, sending the letter to keep his old life from ever finding him again.

"Honestly," Helda began, "I'm not sure. But if he's out there, I think it's about time he came home. Everyone has eventually come back, right? I believe it's his turn now. There are so many people that need to see him again, and even more that need to meet him."

Gilbert didn't respond, and she knew she'd never make him.

((((()))))

Ludwig wanted to smack himself for choosing the van over the perfectly normal and much better Volkswagon. But somehow, it just felt wrong. If his rusty death trap could handle an eight hour trip loaded down with people, then surely it could handle a few more days of his driving.

Just as he had promised early, Ludwig left as soon as he was finished with his stupid chemistry exam. It was pathetically easy, like all the others. It was like every teacher at Heta High was a giant pushover, and Ludwig had yet to really find any exceptions.

The van took another four minutes to start, of course, since it absolutely hated being driven. While Ludwig was messing with it, getting ready to unleash a few words he had learned from Lovino, a shadow popped up on his steering wheel.

"I am skipping school for the first time ever," the shadow's owner said. Ludwig sighed, straightening up to face Feliciano. His lips were trembling with the guilt of skipping, but he didn't look like he was about to run back inside before the tardy bell rang.

"I'm going to check on Vati, and I doubt the van will last a longer trip than that."

"That's okay. I'll pay for gas," Feliciano said, perking up a little. He flinched when the bell rang. "I hope Uncle Herakles won't call Mamma."

Herakles? He'd probably spend the rest of the period thanking the heavens for his lack of annoying nephews during class. Ludwig shrugged anyway, despite the lecture filling his mouth. He swallowed it back down and felt rampant guilt smash into him. "There's some _kuchen_ in the second seat."

Feliciano squealed in thanks and threw a quick hug at him. He pranced around to shotgun and lit up the car with his smile. Ludwig rolled his eyes, and the Luddy-Mobile decided to work. Perhaps it wanted to wait on Feliciano to arrive? It wouldn't be the first time. Apparently the crappy van only liked toting Feliciano around. Since the air conditioner was shot, they wasted no time in cranking the windows open. The passenger side window was jammed at half-notch. It was something Ludwig and Gilbert were supposed to fix on their Senior-Skip Monday adventure. Obviously that hadn't worked out, but Ludwig had tried to do some work on it. He didn't get very far, what with the dogs crowding around him the entire time.

He really should find a dog-sitter. One that wasn't Italian or an Alfred Kirkland, of course.

It was such an awkward drive once Feliciano's smile had slipped away into nervous worry again. What if Herakles _did _mind his skipping? And what about his other classes, too? He was going to miss Art, and he _loved_ Art!

But this was important, too. Since Lovino had been lurking around during Ludwig's stay with them, Feliciano couldn't share his own little lecture. Now, he had enough time to say it!

"Um," the brunette began, chewing on his lip. "So… how've you been?"

Ludwig spared him a glance before locking his sight back on the road. "Fine."

This was a _terrible_ idea. What in the world was he thinking? Feliciano inwardly berated himself for second-guessing again. In one massive, speedy burst, he said, "You shouldn't feel so sad because you frown a lot and when Gilbert sees you frowning, he feels really sad too, so you should act happy, like me!"

The van swerved a minute. Ludwig yelled an apology and snapped his head over to him. "What? I do not frown a lot."

"Yes you do, and you're frowning right now!" he stubbornly retorted. "Besides, it's not good to keep telling yourself you're not worried, because it's really obvious you are."

Ludwig sighed. "Is this why you came along? To play _therapist?_"

Feliciano crossed his arms. "And how do you feel about that?"

"We are not having this stupid and useless conversation."

"But Ludwig-"

"No, Feliciano."

A thankfully less awkward but now more irritated silence ensued. Feliciano put on his best pout, simply because it always made Ludwig snap.

And it did. "Fine, we will have the conversation. But I'm making you run twenty laps around the football field later."

Twenty laps? That was five miles! Ludwig would never make him run five miles. He seriously doubted Ludwig could even do that! But then again, Ludwig ran a _lot_. If Ludwig was able to run five miles, then he was really was the beefiest guy ever. Maybe he should join the Olympics and do track or something.

Ludwig cautiously waved a hand in front of Feliciano's completely zoned-out expression. It was honestly a little scary, how easily he got sidetracked. One day that would get him into serious trouble, and Ludwig would have to bail him out. Hopefully not out of jail, of course. Feliciano could never survive three minutes in jail. He would literally melt.

"Oh! Uh, sorry. Ahem. So, about this no-frowning policy. You are not to frown around Gilbert or anyone else because it makes them feel bad. Any kind of frowning on anybody is bad! Instead, we're going to smile and make everyone feel better! Trust me, if you smile, you can get away with anything." Just to prove his point, Feliciano gave a wide smile. "See? Don't you already feel like it's a better day?"

"It looks like it's going to rain," Ludwig blandly replied. "Also, smiling so often will give people the impression you're lying."

"Oh, whatever. You're such a Debby-Downer, Luddy! Besides, do you think I'm lying? I never lie!"

That was such an obvious lie right there. Ludwig chose not to bring up a certain incident three years ago, when it was up to Heilrich to finally tell the truth. The last thing they needed was to have that brought up again.

He caught himself from frowning, keeping his face impassive. "I'm being realistic."

Feliciano snapped his fingers. "Then that's your problem! Instead of being a lame realist, you need to be more optimistic. Something good- no, something _awesome_- will come out of this, just you wait!"

Like what? Even if- no, _when_- Gilbert got better, Ludwig would still be leaving for Germany. It would be four years before he was able to come back home for longer than a week or two, and maybe longer.

Something else hit him, welcoming a heavy feeling in his chest. Those four years would leave him without Gilbert and Helda, his dogs, and those blasted DDR songs that had grown on him over the years. Unless his roommate was a Gilbert clone with a fetish for DDR, Ludwig was going to go insane. Two more days, and he'd graduate. After just a month of romping around Europe, he'd leave everyone else behind.

Lovino was going to a cooking school in Italy, so it'd probably be a long time before anyone saw him again, since he had a good future laid out for him and few people to really come back to. Not that Ludwig particularly liked his company anyway. Alfred was heading straight into the military after four years of university, and Matthew would be in Canada for at least eight years getting his doctorate. There was no telling how long Kiku would remain in Japan since he himself wasn't quite sure what he was majoring in yet. Besides that, it was still likely he would never leave his beloved Tokyo.

Only Toris, Feliks, and Emil were staying in the country. Feliks was completely forgoing college, choosing to go straight into a cosmetology school. Because the world totes needed more blonde, Polish hairdressers. Ludwig had no idea what Toris and Emil were going to do. Most likely, they would go through community college and figure out what to do then.

Since when did he grow up so fast?

Ludwig was scared. In all his life, he had never been this afraid of anything. Not even the monster he swore had lived in his closet when he was little had him this shaken. His knuckles were white, trembling fingers clenched tight around the steering wheel.

"It's going to be okay, Luddy."

The blonde couldn't stop the frown from popping up on his face. He knew he had just crushed Feliciano's feelings, but truthfully, a stupid pep talk would just make him want to run his van into a tree. However, doing that would land the two of them in the ER with Gilbert, and Ludwig wouldn't be able to fight off a rabid Lovino with several broken bones and bruises.

Feliciano was surprisingly quiet for a moment, returning his concerned gaze back to the window.

Ludwig found the boy's silence much worse than his "optimistic" spoken words. With a haggard sigh, Ludwig apologized. "You're probably right," he acquiesced. "Maybe smiling would make things better. Unless a grin from me gave _Vati_ a heart attack."

"You don't believe that," Feliciano muttered. But, with a sigh of his own, he forced a grin on his face. "But yeah, I _am _right. Only old people pass away. Gilbert's just hit a minor bump in the road. He'll be better in no time!"

"You know better than that," he replied lowly.

The unbearable silence had returned. For just a moment, Ludwig allowed himself to break his stare at the road. Quietly, he asked, "Feliciano…?"

The boy drew his legs up to his chest, eyes softening. "Of course. _You're _the one who's right. _All _kinds of people die. Gilbert really is in bad condition, and you're right for worrying. But, Luddy…. We have to pretend the world's better than it is. How else do you think I got by three years ago?" he asked shakily.

Ludwig opened his mouth to interject, but he didn't really know how to respond to that. He floundered a moment, trying to find something, _anything_, to say to put the smile back on Feliciano's face. Of course, against his hopes, three years ago was being thrown into this mess. The last time he had ever seen Feliciano this despondent was back at the wedding. For hours, he had had to watch a little boy face so much heartache all at once. Ludwig had promised to make sure Feliciano never had to go through something like that again.

"I _know _life is cruel," Feliciano muttered after a moment, eyes flickering to the stained floor. "I know people rarely get happy endings. But I also know that thinking about that stuff will just make you miserable. You and me and Gilbert have of tons of happy stuff to think about! We have to keep our minds on that, and things will get better! Lovi tells me that's a stupid thing to say, but he does it too. Besides you, Lovi is the nicest person I know. Crazy, right? So I think about how good a brother he is, or how good a friend you are. I get my head clear and I stop worrying. Because worrying will only bring everyone else down, and Gilbert needs all the hope he can get, so we can't be worrying over him! And really, he can't die, because we haven't found Brandon yet! I know what the video said, and I know about that letter, but I'm still stubborn. Brandon is out there somewhere, and I swear I'm going to find him. Even if I have to sneak in with you guys when you go to the Netherlands-"

Feliciano jolted when his pocket started to vibrate. He let out a surprised shriek and scrambled to get it. "Heilrich?" he blinked in surprise. After a shrug from Ludwig, he answered. "Ciao, Heilrich! I'm skipping school! It's really scary, but I'm here with Ludwig and- wait a minute, what?"

His eyebrows furled together in confusion. Then, he gaped in shock. Finally, a squeal escaped his throat, once more making Ludwig jerk the van. "What?" Ludwig demanded. "What's going on?"

"_Egli è in Lussemburgo, con te? Egli ha cercato di chiamare noi? Perché non mi chiami prima? Abbiamo cercato anche per lui!_"

"Speak in English!" Ludwig snapped. Feliciano gave a short "Sorry" and continued spewing incredulous Italian anyway. Finally, Ludwig stole the phone. "I am currently breaking the law since I'm still seventeen and am driving my stupid van, so you have exactly one minute to tell me what's going on. Feliciano, shut up a minute, will you?"

Heilrich spoke quietly with loud laughter in the background belonging to Elizabeta and Roderich. They spoke in German, so they weren't in the States. Ludwig thought he remembered hearing something about a concert in Luxembourg? "Uh, hi, Luddy. Ludwig. Sorry. Um… from Feliciano's reaction, I suppose you've heard about Brandon?"

"Brandon?" he warily asked. "Wait. First of all, where are you?"

"Luxembourg. _Vati_ had a concert. _Vati_ and _Mutti's_ anniversary was few days ago, remember? I went to get them flowers and walked into a flower shop. When I told the man working there who my parents were, he completely flipped out. He said Elizabeta was supposed to marry Gilbert."

Ludwig dropped the phone. Feliciano had to grab the wheel before he drove them into the sidewalk. "Luddy?" he twittered in worry. "Are you okay?"

"I-I…."

From the phone he could hear Heilrich also asking if he was okay. Ludwig ignored him and Feliciano, instead glaring out at the street. "I am going to _murder_ that sorry excuse of a brother for ruining my _vater's_ life. We are going to Luxembourg and I will strangle him until he cannot breathe. Then I will punch him in the face and _run him over with the _LUDDY-MOBILE!"

Feliciano winced. He quietly told Heilrich he would call back later. Ludwig yanked the phone back, swerving into the hospital parking lot. "No! You are to stay on this phone! Where is he at now? I demand to speak with him!"

"Ludwig, I promise, he has no idea what happened about the letter. He didn't write it!"

"OF COURSE HE WROTE IT! ARTHUR SAID SO!"

"_Hat jemand sagen_ _Arthur_?"

"Darn it. Uh, no. I'm, uh, talking to a friend at school?"

"HEILRICH FRANZ EDELSTEIN," Ludwig roared, slamming the van door after him. Feliciano hurriedly followed after him, grabbing his arm and pleading with him to stop yelling and listen to him for a minute! As usual, all of his pulling and begging did nothing to curb an angry Ludwig. Actually, perhaps "angry" was too light a word. This was more like an enraged Ludwig heckbent on murder and mayhem. Feliciano hadn't seen him this furious since the wedding, when he was just as mad at Marco as everyone else. Everyone had been scary that day.

Feliciano had to find some way to stop him before he burst into Gilbert's room spouting threats to Brandon's life. That would totally _not _make him feel better and thus get better soon! He had to do something-

AHA!

As eloquently as possibly, Feliciano tripped over his shoe laces, crashing into the steps leading to the hospital doors. "Ow!" he wailed- in actual pain, too, since he had really miscalculated the distance between his nose and the stone steps. Dang it, his plans always backfired like this! "Ouch!"

Ludwig stopped, easily switching into Take Care of Feli mode. "Feliciano just busted his nose on the steps. Ugh, and he's bleeding."

"I'M BLEEDING?"

"Feli, your shoelaces are untied. How many times have I told you to keep them double-knotted? Heilrich, I _will_ call you back later."

Although he didn't have to try and hide the triumph on his face thanks to the very real tears running down his cheeks, Feli couldn't help but chalk this up to another success. Not just a success- a total victory! He was to hug Heilrich until he exploded for this! Well, maybe not until he exploded. That wouldn't be very nice. But there would be a lot of love and gratitude!

Now he just needed to find a way to get to Europe and stop Ludwig from murdering Brandon.

**Translations**

**Italian-**

_**Egli è in Lussemburgo, con te? Egli ha cercato di chiamare noi? Perché non mi chiami prima? Abbiamo cercato anche per lui!- He's in Luxembourg with you? He's been trying to call us? Why didn't you call me sooner? We've been looking for him too!**_

**German-**

_**Hat jemand sagen Arthur?- Did someone say Arthur?**_


	17. Chapter 17

**I hate the first version of this because it was such a jump from what happened last chapter, so the original chapter 17 is now chapter 18, and this is about 70% filler. But there is some character development (I guess?) so it is kinda important.**

…**Oh who cares. Anyway, excuses and procrastination and stupid AP homework aside, I've got a tumblr I hardly use. The link is on my homepage if anyone wants to check it out. On occasion I'll post a bit of a chapter (probably like the beginning of chapter 18) or an idea that was scrapped (there are LOTS of those).**

**Robine: I'm glad you like it so far! Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this fic. It is the sequel to my baby, so it has special treatment. XD Because of the aforementioned excuses, I have little to no time to write anymore, so updates won't be coming as frequently as they used to. But thank you very much for reading and reviewing!**

**Great-Uncle Alfred Kirkland- Alfred the Great, king of England**

**Chapter 17-**

Gilbert didn't feel so well. He had laughed along with Feli's stories and teased Ludwig for getting flustered- the usual stuff. But what was unusual was how tired he felt. Dr. Zwingli had told him he would be fatigued for a couple days while they got him better, but she hadn't said anything about wanting to fall over and sleep at a moment's notice. Despite the pain pills they had him on, his stupid liver was still trying to violently rip itself out of him, too. That predictably did not make him feel any better.

Still, he had to chalk himself up a victory, for Ludwig and Feliciano hadn't noticed how miserable he was. Once they left- just before three-thirty so Feliciano could catch his ride with Lovino- Gilbert was able to let out the moan he had suppressed for hours. He felt like _dying_- was that another stupid side effect of this? Why hadn't the doctors done anything yet? They could have easily preformed a liver transplant already. Were they afraid he'd drink too much again and ruin that one too, or was there something else Dr. Zwingli wasn't telling him?

He didn't mull over it too long, though. Fatigue won the battle in his mind, and it didn't take long for Gilbert to succumb to unconsciousness.

((((()))))

Today was Alfred's day off, so he decided to take Natalya's advice and eat something besides McDonald's for his after-school snack. Arthur had left before Alfred got home from school, leaving a note on the refrigerator that he'd be back later with new groceries. After reading said note, Alfred smacked his forehead on the fridge door. He knew taking Natalya's advice was a terrible idea!

Stomach already growling in sullen protest, Alfred gave up his search when he was only able to find a half-empty box of Cheerio's in the cabinet. Leave it to Arthur to wait until there was no food left before he went to buy more. So, he was now forced to do something else- like being productive. Alfred had a final essay to write for English- _What has been the most inspiring moment for you during high school?_- but he really could care less about writing it. It would probably take a lecture from Matthew to motivate him to write it. Thus, that idea was scrapped.

But really, he supposed the real reason he was procrastinating was because he was trying not to think of either the past or the future at this point. Thinking of the past would make him remember all that he had done and, worst of all, what he hadn't done. The future honestly terrified him, so he decided to secretly be un-heroic and try being a coward. Just for a little while, completely out of anyone else's knowledge. He didn't want to think of leaving his mother after just three years of getting to know her. There were still too many things he didn't know, and that killed him. What was truly the worst, however, was seeing Arthur's face when he left for Connecticut.

_Fairly Odd-Parents is on, _Alfred reminded himself before he could further frighten himself.

To further spoil his afternoon, the second Alfred plopped down on the couch and reached for the TV remote, the home phone rang. "Someone better be dying," he muttered. Even this was a bit of a success, however. Answering the phone would further aid him in ignoring his increasingly dreadful thoughts.

Alfred didn't recognize the long number but answered anyway, figuring it could have been someone wanted to hire Arthur for a case. The only good thing to come of Three Years Ago was his father's publicity. Occasionally, Arthur was called to use his lawyer talent to solve a case far less drastic than Feliciano's. "Hello," he asked, spinning away to walk back to the couch. What could he say? The buck-tooth kid and his crazy fairies were _calling _him, regardless. "Kirkland residence. Alfred Kirkland speaking."

At first, he only heard silence before someone, away from the phone, asked something in German. Alfred almost hung up, thinking they had gotten the wrong number, but a man stopped him, shouting, "Wait wait wait!" as if able to see him. Just to make sure, Alfred cast a wary look to the windows in the room. No strange Germans were peeking through the blinds at him (but was that Monica he just saw? Geez. Crazy kid).

"Uh… sorry. Hello. Is Arthur Kirkland there?" the man asked. Alfred cocked an eyebrow at his accent. Despite speaking German, his accent was almost Dutch-sounding. Where in the world was this guy calling from? Actually, a better question: _who_ was this guy?

"He's out for a while. I can take a message for you, though," Alfred said. Despite the strange feeling starting to tug at him, he grabbed a notepad on the coffee table and fished around for a pen in his coat pocket.

"Thanks. Could you tell him a Brandon Beilschmit called? I'm an old friend, and I was hoping to talk to him again."

Alfred nodded, not recognizing the name at first. Once he began to write "Beilschmit", however, he dropped the pen and jumped up to his feet. "NO WAY!" he shouted, surely stunning Monica, outside playing in Arthur's rose garden, and possibly Lovino and Feliciano, who had just pulled into their driveway. Alfred could tell because he could hear Lovino's radio blaring out some random Italian song. He tore out of his house, nearly falling down the porch stairs in his hurry. "LOVINO! FELI! GET OVER HERE!"

Brandon sounded panicked. "W-wait a minute!"

Alfred ignored him. "A DEAD GUY IS TALKING TO ME ON THE PHONE!" Feliciano zoomed up to him first, trying to calm him down. Alfred was sure he _couldn't_ calm down, because his heart was doing something funky. But, with their combined efforts, Alfred momentarily regained his cool. He thrust the phone into Feliciano's face. "DUDE," he shouted, for Alfred hadn't quite mastered control over his vocal chords yet. "BRANDON BEILSCHMIT. THE DUDE WE JUST LEARNED WAS DEAD YESTERDAY. HE IS CURRENTLY SPEAKING TO ME ON THE PHONE."

Feliciano squealed in glee, ripping the phone away. In one breathless, rapid burst of Italian, Feliciano spewed out, "_Heilrich mi ha detto che erano vivi, e non ho mai dubitato di te, e io sono così felice di parlare finalmente con te! Stiamo andando verso l'Europa presto per aiutarti a trovare e vi riporterà in America in modo da poter incontrare Gilbert di nuovo!_"

Like any sensible person, Brandon was silent. Feli continued rocking on his heels in excitement. A few more seconds passed, and Feli's smile began to taper. "Brandon?" he asked.

Lovino took the phone from him. He palmed himself when he noticed the phone had been taken out of range. They had lost signal and unintentionally hung up on him. "Darn it," Alfred muttered, finally taking back the phone. He looked up at the brothers, who were both staring expectantly at him. Alfred threw his hands up. "I don't remember his number. It was something crazy. I think he was calling from out of the country."

"Obviously," Lovino snapped. "He's in Luxembourg."

As soon as it was out of his mouth, his eyes went wide, and a trail of creative curses flew from his mouth. Feliciano's mouth popped open, but, unlike his brother, couldn't form any words. He silently shook his head in disbelief. Finally: "You knew he was alive, but you didn't _tell me?_"

As their resident hero, Alfred supposed it was his duty to reconcile the younger while also defending the older. Lovino had a reason for everything- likely, he was keeping this a secret for Feliciano's sake. After watching Arthur's video, Alfred could understand why. Just who did something like that? Writing a suicide letter to freak out everyone, while actually going into hiding in Luxembourg? If his accent had anything to say about it, Brandon had lived in Luxembourg for quite a while. Without meaning to, Alfred felt pretty peeved about all of this himself. Brandon ruined his father's life when it was already predestined to be ruined by his future wife and son.

This dude was certainly going to pay for that.

First, however, Alfred had to do something about Feliciano.

"Why didn't you say something? How long have you known?" Feliciano burst. "We could have already found a way to bring him back home! Maybe he could have done something to stop Gilbert before he got too sick!"

"I read it yesterday! Alice said all of this in a message- it's been sitting in your inbox for a week if you'd _shut up and read it sometime!_" Lovino spat back. Despite his scowl, the guilt in his voice was extremely obvious. Alfred tried to now break up the fight before it could turn into something ugly, but this was already a hideous monster just beginning to show itself.

Alfred winced when the first tears sprang to Feliciano's eyes. He again lost the ability to form a retort, so he merely stood crying. Lovino instinctively reached out to try and comfort him, but Feliciano pulled back. "Alice sent the message?" he asked in a trembling, but calm, voice.

Lovino slowly exhaled. "Yes. She did."

Feliciano mulled over this for a moment, making no movement to wipe his tears. He shook his head. He muttered something under his breath that Alfred didn't catch, but Lovino did. Whatever Feli said, it certainly hadn't made Lovino happy. Not that he ever was happy, of course. He purposely replied in Italian so Alfred couldn't catch the conversation. Out of all the foreign languages Alfred was fluent in, he still hadn't mastered Italian, and couldn't pick out all of what the brothers were now saying. Lovino could speak just as quickly as Feliciano, despite having only started learning Italian three years ago.

Seeing they wouldn't be finishing their heated discussion for a while, Alfred quietly gave his leave so he could put the phone back. Outside, he heard Feliciano's phone ring, but someone quickly silenced it. Lovino's rang next, and he loudly cursed as he silenced it as well.

Alfred had already missed the first few minutes of The Fairly Odd-Parents, but it felt traitorous to turn on the TV now. He considered calling Mattie in for reinforcements, but he was likely already preoccupied with hunting down his sister. Actually, that was something Alfred could do. He went out the back door, so as not to interrupt Lovino, now shouting, and Feliciano, still crying.

Monica sat in the dirt between two of Arthur's rose bushes, crumpled playing cards strewn around her. She sat coloring on one with childish concentration, completely peaceful in the mud. While Arthur's gardening was miraculous compared to his cooking, most of the flowers were withering from neglect and Monica's playing. Alfred crouched down to her level and stuck out his hand. "Wanna go inside for a snack? I've got Cheerios and a lot of sugar."

She nodded and accepted his help in wriggling out of her hiding spot, grabbing up as many cards as she could in one go. "I'm going to call Francis so he knows where you are, okay?"

Again, the little girl nodded, keeping her hand in Alfred's. She seemed to be thinking about something intently, and Alfred hoped she wasn't wondering why Lovino and Feliciano were arguing. Something like that didn't happen often (well, Feliciano normally wasn't bothered by something like this), but Monica was their resident three-year-old therapist. Like Alfred, she often took it upon herself to ensure everyone was happy.

Alfred turned on the TV to Disney for her while he called Francis, calming him down. He couldn't hear Lovino and Feliciano anymore, so hopefully they had made up and gone home. Alfred added today to his mental list of things he was forbidden to think of. However… he couldn't completely shove everything to the back of his mind, no matter how much he wanted to. Alfred still had an obligation to make things right after doing so much wrong. He needed to tell Arthur the truth.

As soon as he had made a bowl of sugary cereal for Monica and hung up on Francis, that was exactly what he did.

((((()))))

Arthur was ready to commit homicide if Samantha did not leave him alone. It wasn't her sauntering walk down the grocery aisles or her loud, boisterous laugh that irritated him. Arthur couldn't quite place what had enraged him so, but he was very sure Samantha was the object of his misery. She always was. Every problem Arthur encountered had likely originated from Samantha Jones. This trip to Wal-Mart was no different.

When Samantha turned a corner to look for Alfred's coffee creamer, Arthur let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He paused a moment in front of the bread, pretending to check the prices. Actually, he was mulling over whether or not Samantha would get angry if he retreated. This little incursion was her idea, actually. Samantha had taken it upon herself to "reconnect" with Arthur, and least become friends with him again. It was a daft idea that Arthur had rolled his eyes and scoffed over, but Samantha was serious. She said it was for Alfred, trying to corner Arthur into going along with the idea. Stupid Sammy knew he couldn't say no to something for Alfred's benefit.

_Stupid Sammy._

Samantha was back before Arthur could make a decision concerning his flight. "Your pocket is lit up, so I assume you have a call," she pointed out. Arthur withheld his glare and pulled out his cell phone. He knew little about its workings, but he had been able to put it on silent. It was much easier to ignore Francis and Samantha this way. Arthur sighed when he noticed it was Alfred.

Instead of a normal greeting, Arthur answered with, "What have you set fire to?"

"Oh, come on," Alfred sullenly replied. Arthur heard the TV going on in the background as well as Monica's laughter. He instantly feared the worst of his garden, but Alfred didn't give him any terrible news. Instead, he nervously twittered about finding Monica, acting as though he was keeping something secret.

Arthur's mood further plummeted. "If she destroyed my garden or broke something, it's alright, Alfred."

He could just see Alfred wince. "I-it's not that. Monica hasn't done anything. Well, except muddy up the couch. But, um…. Crap. I can't find a way to sugarcoat this. I-I know about, uh, Gilbert's brother."

Oh. _Oh. _This was certainly worse than a garden impacted by a three-year-old's atomic-bomb qualities. Arthur grabbed Samantha's arm and led her to the check-out. "We'll be home in a minute," he said, trying to form the words with a suddenly tight throat. "Your mother decided to join me."

"…Okay. Um… I'm going to take Monica home. Bye?"

Arthur said his own farewell. Standing in line, he frowned and faced Samantha. He couldn't explain it, but he was suddenly glad she had come after all. Despite being a giant pain, Samantha had her redeeming qualities. Arthur had to admit she could be a life-saving angel when she wanted to, and when she wasn't the reason he was depressed, she could brighten his day if she so wished. The only problem with her redeeming qualities was the fact that she was so fickle, particularly in regards to Arthur. It was as if she purposely took the greatest care in ensuring he couldn't read her mind.

Oh, what was he thinking. Samantha was an insufferable little prat.

"I believe Alfred stumbled onto one of our videos. The ones Elizabeta recorded for us?"

"Oh God," she muttered. "This is terrible, Arthur."

He nodded empathetically, mechanically going through the process of checking out at the cash register. Either the cashier didn't notice their discomfort or didn't care, but Arthur was glad no questions were asked. He didn't exactly have a coherent answer for anything the young man might have inquired of him.

Samantha only spoke up once they were outside of the store, laden down with grocery bags. Quietly, she asked, "But what if he didn't find the videos, but heard it from somewhere else? What if someone finally found out what happened?"

Arthur couldn't give her answer. He recalled the conversation he had had with Therese just weeks ago, when he'd asked himself the same thing. If Brandon was alive- if there was solid evidence he was dead- Arthur wasn't sure what he would do.

More concerning, if this leaked out to Gilbert, what would _he_ do?

((((()))))

Toris wasn't sure what he was doing, but aimlessly driving seemed peaceful. Feliks had chosen to remain home, too preoccupied with finding the best attire to wear during their Doda concert to bother with Toris today. He had to smile at his friend's excitement. Feliks hadn't been so genuinely enthused with anything since last year's summer barbeque.

…Wait, wasn't that the time Feliks decided to play tag with the lighter fluid and matches?

He shivered at the awful memory. It would plague him for the rest of his days, he was sure. Still, despite the slight nagging he felt tugging at his brain, today was a good day, he supposed. Eduard had almost finished planning for a concert at Tavian's coffee shop, and he was supposed to call Arthur later to see if he'd play for them. It was a secret plan devised by Alfred and Lovino. All funds from the show would be given to Lili to help pay for her nasty hospital bills. If Toris had been remotely musically inclined, he definitely would have helped.

However, that wasn't one of his better talents.

Not that he really had any mentionable talents.

Toris sighed, mood ruined by the stupid thoughts running through his mind. He couldn't spend one day without remembering something horrible, could he. Paying little mind to where he stopped, Toris pulled over next to the sidewalk and reached for his phone. He had to call Feliks to take this off of his mind. He refused to let Family Two, also known as The Biggest Disaster Ever, further tear at him.

He should have expected that Feliks wouldn't have his phone on.

Before he could try Eduard's phone, someone gave an annoyed rap on his window. Toris whipped his head around to meet eyes with a very unhappy Natalya. With wide eyes, he finally took in the street he was on. Sure enough, he had managed to park in front of Ivan's house, right in front of a new mailbox that had sunflowers freshly painted on it.

"You need to leave," Natalya rigidly stated when he rolled down his window.

"I-I didn't mean to stop here," he apologized, afraid to look at her eyes in fear of thinking again of how beautiful she was. That was another of his problems, actually. As if he couldn't make matters worse, he had to have a crush on his friend's girlfriend, didn't he? Toris was only thankful Alfred paid no attention to anyone but himself most times.

Natalya crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the asphalt. Toris had to eventually look up since she didn't move out of the way to let him continue driving. She jabbed a finger at him. "If you thought you could try and pull some sympathy out of me, I hope you know it's not going to work. Stop being such a crybaby and stop focusing on whatever has you down. It's outright annoying to watch you mope so much. It's even worse to hear Alfred's concern about you."

Toris gaped. He quickly shook his head. "N-no! It's not like that-"

"It is like that. You just don't want to admit it," the blonde snapped. In exasperation she rolled her eyes. "You honestly sicken me. You're never content with what you have, are you?"

Of course he was content with what he had. Right? He showed his thanks by taking care of his family and Feliks. But something was starting to tug at him again- something in his chest, recalling Stephen's voice again. _It's not your fault, Kiddo._ Sometimes, he wondered what he was referring to. There were a lot of things Toris was at fault for. Which one of his mistakes hadn't really been his?

Natalya's face softened, just a fraction. She looked around the street, and back to her house. After assuring herself they were totally alone, Natalya uncrossed her arms. "Don't get me wrong," she started. "I really don't like you. But when you start worrying Ivan and Alfred, I cannot ignore you. Believe me, I know exactly what happened to you, and why you think you're a failure. You're not. Your parents did not intentionally leave you. I'm sure you've done exactly what you've been expected to do. Any issues have been someone else's fault."

"…I have to get home," he said, turning his truck on. Natalya reached in and yanked his keys out of the ignition. "Hey!" Toris protested, uselessly trying to retrieve them. Natalya huffily put them behind her back. With a sigh, he turned his attention back to her.

"No matter what you think," Natalya scathingly continued, voice as frosty as a winter in Siberia, "you are pretty much perfect. Besides your inherit annoyingness, of course. And you're crippling stupidity. So, you are to forget about those past families and think of what you have now: a good family, a best friend, and several other obnoxious buddies. What do you have to complain about? Or has your past spoiled you into thinking you need everything? Things change, Toris. In a matter of seconds, your life can completely turn itself around. You lose the people you love the most, and sometimes they don't come back. Others will distance themselves from you and make you bitter. You're not an unhappy person, Toris," she said, voice softening and eyes turning to the ground.

He winced, hearing the unheard, _Don't turn harsh like me._

Toris wanted to give her a hug, but that certainly would ruin the mood, so he held himself back. He did, however, give her a smile. "Thank you, Natalya."

"Whatever," she ground out, still avoiding his eyes. With an irritated huff, Natalya threw his keys back at him. Before she left, she kicked his truck for good measure. "Don't come back here again, or I'll rip off your muffler!"

"Okay!" he laughed, earning himself a glare. Toris didn't care. He knew Natalya didn't mean it. Deep down, she did like him- just a little. Or maybe more than both of them thought. He started the car again, but didn't pull away from the curb immediately. Toris palmed himself as he got out of the car. Over the roof he shouted, "Seriously, Natalya, thank you for everything! If you ever need a favor-"

"If I ever need a favor I'll use you with or without your permission, depending on my mood," she spat back. With finality, she slammed the front door after her.

Toris sighed dreamily, giving her home a sappy smile before reentering his truck. He didn't notice until he got home himself that he hadn't thought anymore about Family Two and their stupidly high expectations of him.

((((()))))

Arthur and Samantha sat stunned on the couch while Alfred hesitantly told them everything he knew. He began with had presumably started everything- Ludwig and Feliciano accidentally finding the videos, then the house, and finally Alfred and Natalya's adventure in the second old house, confirmed to be where Arthur once lived. After shaking off his initial shock and guilt for making such a video, he admitted to leaving the video behind when they moved out. As for the name on the fireplace mantle, it had been the name of his great-uncle, long gone before Alfred came along. This great-uncle was basically the only family Arthur had ever liked, and had owned the house before Eseld moved to America.

"Pity you never knew him," Arthur said, sad smile on his face. "But back to this business concerning Brandon. You are _positive _he called you?"

Alfred nodded. "He said he was an old friend of yours. I almost didn't catch his name at first. Lovi, Feli, and I sort of accidentally hung up on him. Sorry."

"He'll call back," Arthur assured him. "He always calls back to apologize."

After each time he, Gilbert, and Francis abandoned him at a concert, or "forgot" to give him a ride after a soccer match, Brandon would always come and apologize. Unlike Gilbert, he wasn't a complete jerk to everyone. Arthur let out a weary sigh. "So, he apparently knows Alice? And this is why you want to go to Europe so badly?"

"Yeah, from what I gather. Besides you guys, me, Lovi, and Feli, I don't think anyone else knows he's still alive. Well. Ludwig probably knows by now, since it's inevitable that Feli will call him with the news. But I think Feli also mentioned something about Heilrich, so maybe they ran into him first. I'm not sure on all of the details, but he's definitely ali-" A massive bear hug from Samantha cut him off. Alfred shut up and hugged her back, and didn't protest when Arthur thanked him with a hair ruffle. He hated that since he was a kid, and he still hated it even now, but he'd forgive him this time because of the circumstances.

"I'll make sure all of you can go on your trip," Arthur said at last. His voice sounded thick, but Alfred couldn't tell for sure because Samantha still had him trapped. "We'll come up with some way to sneak in Feliciano as well. And when you find Brandon, I need you to tell him Arthur is going to slug him one when he comes back home."

Alfred nodded, promising to tell him those exact words. And perhaps punch him once himself.

((((()))))

Far away in Luxembourg, Brandon had no idea that three people were itching to beat him to a bloody pulp. Instead, he was mostly focused on freaking out over his phone battery dying in the middle of a conversation. He had finally gotten through to someone, but karma or some other power had made sure to punish him by killing his battery. He wouldn't be able to call back for some time since he had gone with Roderich, Elizabeta, and Heilrich to a concert. It wasn't one of Roderich's, of course, but if he didn't listen to quality classical music within a period, he would likely explode.

Brandon sighed, stuffing his now useless phone back in his coat pocket. It wasn't very cold tonight, but still nippy enough for Elizabeta to spaz when someone didn't wear a coat. Brandon felt extra sorry for Heilrich every time his parents did something crazy. Which was often.

But still. Despite karma's annoying intervention, Brandon had finally done some good. Alfred certainly wasn't a three-year-old who wasn't allowed to talk to strangers, so Brandon hoped he would actually tell Arthur he had called. Arthur wouldn't hate him too, right? He'd puff up and yell at him for a while, but Artie- _that old softie_- would lighten up after a while and welcome him back.

As he walked back into the large auditorium, Brandon couldn't keep Arthur, Gilbert, and everyone else out of his mind. After traveling with Roderich to Amsterdam, to meet up with Sebastiaan, Brandon would finally go back to America. Guilt and terror begged him turn back and stay home, but Gilbert's last audible words made him swallow his shallow pride.

"I'll be there soon, Mini-Awesome."

**Translation**

**Italian-**

_**Heilrich mi ha detto che erano vivi, e non ho mai dubitato di te, e io sono così felice di parlare finalmente con te! Stiamo andando verso l'Europa presto per aiutarti a trovare e vi riporterà in America in modo da poter incontrare Gilbert di nuovo!- Heilrich told me you were alive, and I never doubted you were, and I am so glad to finally talk to you! We are going to Europe soon to find you and bring you back to America so you can meet Gilbert again!**_


	18. Chapter 18

**You know, half of my best friends are seniors this year while I'm a junior. So just know that this was torture to write because I'll be saying goodbye to a bunch of my friends soon too. D'8 Also! I had a stupid idea for Julio to finally tell Alfred (and the others) he knew English though song at the after-party. If anyone wants to read the lyrics, I'll have it up on my tumblr (the link is on my profile) or I'll gladly PM it to anyone. Thanks to a glorious snow day, online Spring Break, and having half of this already written, I WAS ABLE TO UPDATE FAST! IN ONE DAY! *throws a party that everyone's invited to***

**Robine- MAY I TAKE A MOMENT TO TELL YOU I LOVE YOU? XD But seriously, thank you so much! Don't worry about short reviews- I'd appreciate it even if you simply left "Sup". The amount of chapters in Alleluia surprised **_**me**_**, too, so don't worry about that! I'm honestly shocked I was able to write a decent story that long, even with those confusing twists and subplots (again, those kind of overwhelmed me at times- especially when I wasn't sure at first how to tie them all together). It's awesome that you're Belgian! I've always wanted to go there. So… border control is nonexistent…? Oh, well. It was worth it to freak out Sebastiaan. XD BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN. Honestly, your review and the only other one I got for the last chapter convinced me to write this one rather quickly, so THANK YOU SO MUCH for that too!**

**Chapter 17-**

"…I know _Mamma _and _Papà_ are oblivious to a lot of things, but I'm pretty sure they'll be able to tell I am _not _Lovino."

Feliciano fidgeted nervously in the tight bathroom, wondering once again how he had been pushed into doing this. Especially after yesterday, and the mildly embarrassing breakdown he'd had. Of course, since he couldn't remain angry with Lovino for more than just a little while, they had quickly made up and apologized to each other. Lovino must have really felt guilty, because he had sort of come up with this plan in the first place. Feliciano, and later Alfred and Ludwig, had merely straightened out the details.

In short, Lovino was giving up his plane ticket (not that he had really wanted it in the first place) to Feliciano. However, Aria would probably go on a murderous rampage if Feliciano traveled so far away from her, so they had make sure she believed Feliciano was actually Lovino.

This was where Alfred had decided to call Feliks.

Said makeup artist-in-training paused his ecstatic rummaging to scowl over his shoulder. Feliciano hadn't even moved from his spot near the door, twisting his lips in apprehension. It wasn't like Feliks could blame him for that. Even Toris was wary to enter his house. The tacky décor probably threw everyone off.

Like, honest to goodness, Feliks had _tried_. He dedicated his entire summer vacation last year to remodeling Tavian's shack (it was far too small and old and possibly haunted to be called a house). The walls had been painted, furniture was rearranged according to maneuverability through impossibly small rooms and feng shui. Thanks to his efforts, Tavian had the most stylish house (shack) on the block.

Until he decided to add his own flair to the place.

For the record, dank Gothic architecture horribly clashes modern chic. Also, the huge painting of Vlad the Impaler (Tavian's hero) that hung in the living room belonged in a dumpster, not Feliks's living space. Tavian had told him plenty of times that if he didn't like Vlad, he could move back into his Aunt and Uncle Lupei's bigger and better-looking house (which could not be called a shack, because it actually looked like something decent). But Feliks couldn't just leave him to the horrors of his house! Without Feliks's totes amazing help, Tavian would never be able to bring a girlfriend home! Well, Feliks supposed he should find Tavian a girlfriend first. If there actually was a girl that wouldn't be repulsed by him, of course.

Tavian was his biggest project, right after poor Toris. Feliks was beginning to think that since Toris was too stubborn to let him work his magic, he might always look like a rejected nineteenth century English dude who desperately needed a haircut! What kind of best friend would he be-

"Alright, I'm freaking here. This better be important, because I'm missing valuable decorating time in the auditorium with Lili. Feliciano said he had things under control, so what do you wa- WHAT THE CRAP IS THAT THING?"

Ah, Lovino must have met Mr. Vlad. Feliks picked up his plethora of hair products and called the brothers into to the impossibly small bathroom. Feliks was so glad they had decided to go with his plan. It was absolutely foolproof, of course. After Feliciano and Ludwig told everyone about Brandon (but seriously, could they make up their minds about thinking the dude was rotting or still kicking?), Feliks knew it was up to him to get Feliciano on that plane.

Feliciano continued anxiously wringing his hands as Feliks dunked his head under the running bath water. "You brought some of your clothes, right, Lovi?"

"Don't call me that, you freak. And yeah, they're on the couch. By the way, where's Tavian? I'm pretty sure we're not safe here unless Tavian is in the vicinity."

"Hon, trust me. Tavvy couldn't protect you from a bee. His tough and macabre personality is a big, fat façade," Feliks said, squirting shampoo in his hand.

Lovino grumbled something about _him _being the threat to their well-being and left, making the excuse that he had to call Lili about something concerning their graduation tonight. She had somehow forced him on the committee a few months ago, charging him with not only decoration, but also the duty of making sure Alfred didn't completely wreck the ceremony. Lili's influence was actually kind of scary at times. Once he was safely out of hearing range, Feliks let loose a giggle. "Your brother's such a party pooper. It's gonna be terrible, acting like him all day."

"I'm still not sure this is going to work," Feliciano twittered, now twisting his fingers in the hem of his shirt.

"Of course it will!" Feliks burst, whipping out the hair dye. "When have my plans ever backfired?"

_Oh Santo Dio._

((((()))))

Alfred vainly examined himself in Samantha's huge mirror. After yesterday's events, he had decided to go home with Samantha, just in case Brandon did call Arthur back. It was fine and dandy to be hugged in gratitude, but Alfred didn't particularly like anything else like that. What was he even trying to say? It made no sense to shy away from a good family moment. Except, you know, good family moments usually only happened either before or directly after something terrible happened.

For the first time in forever, besides yesterday which Alfred had to count as an exception, Arthur and Samantha civilly sat together, probably awkwardly talking about the weather. But awkwardness of their quiet conversations aside, they were finally somewhat acting like they could at least stand the other's presence for him. After all, not only had he told them one of their best friends was really alive, but he was _their son_, and it was finally time to act like the parents they were.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to break their civil peace yet by showing off his new uniform. It had just come in the mail earlier that morning, and Samantha wanted to see it on him- to see her little hero in full attire. That was okay. When Arthur decided to drop by too? It took serious will power to make a move for "his" room. It technically used to be a random storage room, but Samantha switched it into a cramped bedroom for him when he came over for a week or two. Most of the furniture, like the girly mirror in front of him, had been Samantha's. There was a good reason Alfred rarely invited any of his friends over to his mother's house.

He was stalling, and that was unbefitting of someone currently wearing a military uniform. Alfred winced, just seeing Arthur's wide-eyed expression. His dad certainly hadn't been happy to learn he was going to Norwich, since most of his military family already had terrible luck. To add that bad luck to _Alfred _would bring about disastrous consequences. He paused a moment to shiver at the thought of his grandmother, always so superstitious. Alfred couldn't be happier that she had decided to travel across Europe by herself, completely forgoing any communication with her sons, daughter, and grandchildren.

But back to Arthur- Alfred had to prove him wrong. Achaius might have been shot, but he turned out fine, right? Nothing had happened to Aldwin yet either. Therefore, Arthur couldn't claim there was any bad luck just because something had happened to one brother.

Ugh, he was really stalling, now. Alfred stuck his ear to the door and heard silence. He began to panic. When he faintly heard Arthur ask if Samantha wanted any tea, Alfred attempted to calm his nerves. Drinking tea calmed everyone's nerves. Tea was a _good _thing.

He took a deep breath and stuck his head out the door. Arthur was completely out of sight now, and he heard running water from the kitchen. Samantha's mouth popped up as she jumped off of the couch. "You… you look so…."

Alfred shrugged, still keeping an eye out for Arthur. The explosion that was going to come…. Samantha straightened his hat and shook her head. "It just… fits you perfectly. Artie, forget the tea and get in here!"

He winced when Arthur appeared in the doorway, face quickly losing any hint of emotion. Alfred supposed he had lived a good life, aside from his monumental screw-ups from three years ago and the times preceding that. Actually, now that he thought about it, he mostly acted like a giant jerk for most of his life. That was a disheartening revelation.

Arthur's face didn't turn its usual angry red when he joined Samantha in standing before him. Instead, he swallowed hard. Apparently yesterday's news had substantially calmed him down. "Well, I guess you'll have to start acting the part of a hero now."

Oh, geez. Did he really have to say that? Alfred's face crumbled. "Dad-"

"Shush. When you leave tonight, I expect you to act like the bloody young man you are instead of a child. And when you go to Norwich, you better be the best student they've ever had. If not, I'm dragging you to law school and you'll work with me for the rest of your life."

Samantha bit her lip as she looked between the two, both scared to death but unwilling to say so. She put a small smile on her face and cleared her throat to get their attention. "Don't worry about a thing, Alfred. If you ever want to come home and take a break, I won't let Arthur make you his clone. Law is horribly boring. And when you don't drop out like he expects you to, I'll be sure to keep your father out of trouble until Christmas. But if you don't come home for Christmas or call me every single day, I will murder you. So don't you worry a bit. I know you'll be just fine."

Obviously her speech had backfired, since Alfred was absolutely terrified now, but whatever. Who else but Samantha could horrify him in so many different ways? It was all part of being a mom. Probably.

Alfred took a step back towards his room. "Uh, yeah. I'm, uh, gonna get ready for graduation, okay? Um… thanks for the astounding words of assurance and support, guys."

"You're welcome!" Samantha beamed. Arthur palmed himself.

Alfred escaped back into his personal confines to hyperventilate for a moment. After a moment of peeved silence, Arthur gave Samantha a withering scowl. "Murder?"

"Like you were sugar-coating things too," Samantha countered with a scowl of her own. "'Or you'll have to be a crusty, never-get-a-case lawyer like me!'"

When they huffily went their separate ways- Samantha back to her magazine and couch, and Arthur to his tea- neither could quite hide the subtle grin that followed moments like this. Perhaps, one day… they might be able to forget their past differences and fall in love again. No, probably not that. Arthur doubted either of them would ever try that again. But to at least become good- maybe even best- friends again? That was definitely more likely to occur.

((((()))))

The music blasting on the football field nearly knocked Lili over the second she walked behind the school. She clapped her hands over her ears and winced. This definitely had to be fixed. Several cars were already present, parked around the field. Nearly half of the senior class and a few other volunteers (namely: Yong Soo, Bong Chung, Natalya, and Emil's brothers) were already unfolding chairs on the grass or putting up decorations. Lili was able to point out nearly all of her friends, save Alfred and Ludwig. Alfred had changed his mind on coming, probably as had Ludwig. Lili figured they wanted to spend of the day with Samantha and Gilbert.

That thought almost made her want to walk back across the street and spend the last few hours she had with her father. Lili had felt nothing but guilt around him since her conversation with Bong Chung days ago. That afternoon, she had decided to do something crazy, stupid, and completely against her father's wishes. No matter what, she was going to Europe. How else was she supposed to finish everything in her book? Lovino may or may not have decided to go with them after all, so it was the perfect chance to get him and Ludwig talking and perhaps apologize to each other.

Lili steeled her resolve as she hurried over to Tino and Berwald, unpacking more balloons and streamers. "Hello, Lili!" Tino cheerfully greeted her.

"Hello," she grinned back. After their normal exchange of pleasantries, Lili took several balloons and went to the helium machine, being ran by Emil. He had obviously been sent here to be under the watchful eye of Tino and Berwald, and also to have a light job. "Nikolaus send you here?" Lili asked quietly. However, with the loud music, she had to quietly shout out her question.

Emil rolled his eyes, pulling her over a chair. "Of course he sent me here. He knows Tino lives to baby me. Plus, if I so much as let out a sigh that gives Berwald reason to believe I'm injured in some way, he will flip out and smash Abel's face in."

Lili's eyes went wide at that. Berwald, flipping out? She would have been able to more easily imagine Lovino being best friends with Ludwig before she could picture a spastic Berwald. But she took his word for it, nodding sympathetically. After all, Lili had no doubt that Vash was lurking around somewhere, watching her with binoculars or something. "But… you are getting better, right?" she cautiously asked.

He almost took too long to nod. Lili sighed, frowning in concern. "Emil, regardless of what Tino and Berwald would think, if you're still feeling bad from that accident, you shouldn't have come today. It's already bad enough you'll feel terrible during the ceremony."

"I don't feel _that _bad. Besides, I came to get away from Abel and Nikolaus, not because I'm stubborn."

"You _are_ stubborn."

"…Well, I guess that may have had something to do with my being here, but that wasn't just it!" Emil burst defensively. Lili laughed at his outburst, instantly making him shy back to his soft demeanor. "A-anyway, are you sure _you _should be here? You haven't looked so good the past few days. I'm surprised Vash even let you out of your house."

Lili's heart sank. Emil was the second person to notice she hadn't been feeling well. However, she kept her smile on her face as she shook her head. "I'm fine," she easily lied. "I'm just a little tired, I suppose. Feliciano and Lovino kept me up all night, telling me about their findings."

Emil cocked an eyebrow, expertly tying a balloon to a string. He next tied it to the weight holding down the others. "More about this Brandon guy? Tao said something about it the other day. Apparently he overheard Kiku and Alfred talking about him."

_More like eavesdropping, _they both thought.

For some reason, that reminded Lili: "Have you heard anything about how the restaurant is doing? Kiku has been worried that things might go wrong without him there this summer."

Emil shrugged. "I know about as much as you do. Tao and Yong Soo are both freaking out in their own way, but they haven't told me anything. I don't see how they're losing business, though. We've ate out there twice this week, and it's been packed as usual. I think something's up."

Lili frowned at his tone, and at the scowl he now wore. It was as if Emil had his own suspicions of who would be running Heta's favorite restaurant into the ground. Lili hoped he hadn't found out about Bong Chung and suspected her. She might have been going through some hard stuff, but she definitely wouldn't steal from Red Flower. After all, she really did love Yong Soo, right? Lili believed everything she had told her back at the old house. Bong Chung was a nice girl- she was just having a hard time repaying the man that got her to Heta by getting everyone to learn about Gilbert.

It lifted her spirits to realize Bong Chung didn't have long to wait, since they were leaving tonight. They would have Brandon back to Heta in no time, then she would be able to tell Yong Soo, and everything would be back to normal!

She couldn't wait for tonight.

((((()))))

"Yes, _Mamma_, I remembered to pack extra socks," Feliciano said, trying not to let his pain show through in his voice. His hair had already been dyed and blow-dried, but now Feliks was trying to yank most of it out instead of combing it. He winced when Feliks yanked his head to the side, trying to comb out an invisible knot. At least he hadn't tried to tackle the curl yet.

Aria continued buzzing in ear about calling her every hour, and being nice to Gilbert, and helping Helda with anything she needed. To ensure Aria didn't get suspicious of Feliciano's random disappearance, he had told her he was going to stay with Helda to keep her company while Ludwig was gone and Gilbert was still at the hospital. Lovino was staying with Kiku's family, who had also agreed to keep quiet. Luckily, Helda was awesome enough to go along with this without asking any questions. Feliciano had a sinking suspicion that she had somehow found out about the videos, but she had yet to mention anything about them. Maybe she really was just that amazing.

Almost inaudibly, Feliks announced he was finally finished with Feliciano's hair. He let out a silent sigh of relief and assured his mother that he would be a perfect little angel. "_Prometto_," Feliciano continued, almost grinning at his mother's worry. "Almost" being the key word, here. Actually, he felt pretty horrible, lying to Aria like this. She had always been so over-protective. When she found out about all of this, she would probably die. "Oh, hey, I gotta go. We're going to see Gilbert, okay? _Ciao, Mamma! Ti amo!_"

Once he had finally hung up, Feliciano let out a long groan. "I'm sure there is a special place in hell for people like me who lie to their mother," he muttered.

"Relax," Feliks rolled his eyes, waving his guilt away. "You're doing this for her benefit, right?" At his nod, Feliks grinned. "Then you don't have anything to worry about! Like I said, this is totes foolproof. You already look like you were Lovino's twin instead of his little brother. I've just got to put some powder on your face to make you look tanner, and you're, like, set!"

Feliciano nervously grinned in agreement, though he didn't feel any better. He tried convincing himself that Feliks was right- and he probably was, too. Aria would be ecstatic to see Brandon again, Feli was sure. He kept telling himself that, and eventually he started to feel a little better. Feliciano thought of all the wonderful things that would come out of this. They were flying to Amsterdam first to meet up with Alice, Lars, and Sebastiaan. Then, they'd follow them to Luxembourg and meet Brandon! After that, all there was to do was to bring him back home.

Maybe this plan really was foolproof. The only thing that could possibly go wrong was for their plane to crash, but there really wasn't a chance of that happening, was there? Alfred would probably love that anyway, since he'd spend their spiraling descent ranting about how they would land on The Island and reenact LOST. Ever since that show ended, he had been obsessed.

He was officially cheered back up by that crazy thought.

It didn't take long for Feliks to finish transforming him into Lovino. When he was finally allowed to look in the mirror, Feliciano's eyes widened in disbelief. Feliks wasn't kidding when he looked like Lovino's twin. Except Lovino would never wear this expression. Feliciano tried out a scowl, and was forced back into shock when Lovino scowled back at him in his reflection. "That is so cool!" he burst, hopping in glee. "Feliks, you're amazing!"

He chuckled none too humbly and gave him a sweeping bow as theatric as Tavian. "Like, thanks a ton, Feli!"

"No, really, I should thank you, Feliks!" he shook his head excitedly. "You're the coolest person ever! I am going to make you some of my best pasta for this! And I'll paint a bunch of pictures for you and make you more pasta and anything else you want!"

Feliks was about to demand that he make him a life-sized sculpture of Doda riding on a pony, but his phone starting blaring out an alarm. He flinched in shock. He hadn't set an alarm to go off! However, he didn't have time to notice that a note read _I figured you would need to be reminded to get to the school at six _from Toris, because it was totes time to get dressed and down to the school! Feliks sprinted out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, leaving behind a very stunned and confused Feliciano. He hurried back, told Feliciano to for him in the living room, and then offered to drive him when he was looking totes perfect.

After Feliks dove back into his room a final time, Feliciano blinked and looked down at his own watch. It was an old one almost too small for his wrist, but Feliciano didn't want to retire it any time soon since it had been a gift from Roma. However, now, he didn't think of Roma, but of how this plan was going to be put into motion in less than three hours.

Even then, it didn't take long for him to switch topics and think of his friends.

In less than three hours, they were going to officially graduate. Of course, Feliciano wouldn't be saying goodbye for a while longer, but what about everyone that wasn't going to Europe? Feliciano had _a lot _of friends, and many of them were seniors. Half of the Art Club was comprised of seniors. Many of his teammates were seniors.

Feliciano dropped down on the couch, feeling completely blindsided by this sudden feeling of complete loneliness. What was he going to do next year, when most of his friends were gone? How was he supposed to enjoy Art Club and Soccer and lunch without them?

How was he supposed to say goodbye to Lovino and Ludwig?

Thankfully, Feliks took less time in getting ready than Feliciano expected. He wore a stunning bubblegum pink suit and reverently carried a large bag with his gown in it. The black cap was already on his head- "I'm just gonna, like, wear it and pray my hat-hair, like, isn't too horrifying."

"Like, ready to go?" Feliks asked, claiming his keys from a rack in the kitchen/nonexistent foyer. Feliciano nodded and hurried after him, trying not to imagine what saying a final farewell to Feliks would be like. "I'm supposed to pick up Tavvy from the coffee shop since he's, like, too lazy to cross the street."

"Oh. That's okay."

Feliciano settled himself in the passenger seat, taking a good look of the ratty interior of the car. Feliks had attempted to "fix" it by sewing up holes in the cloth top and putting colorful stickers on any scratches on the dashboard. There were tiny sticker-pictures on the interior of the door, right below the window. Three were on Feliciano's side- one of Tavian and Feliks, one of Feliks and Toris, and one obviously photoshopped of an obscenely fat, cross eyed Ivan. More were on Feliks's side, but Feliciano didn't know most of those people in the pictures. They must have been some of his Polish friends. Feliciano vainly wondered which one of the girls was Anelie, and if Feliks even had put a picture of her in his car.

Feliks noticed his staring and began naming each of the people, eyes darting from picture to road and back again. It was hardly safe driving, but Feliks seemed to know what he was doing. Apparently he did this often? "These crusty losers are _Mama i Tata_," he said, voice dropping to a grumble. "Toris fussed at me, so I, like, had to include them too. Though they're stupid. Anyway, this is…."

Feliciano slightly frowned, craning his neck to get a better look at Feliks's parents. They didn't look like crusty losers, but Feliciano couldn't really say anything. Feliks's mom was blonde like him, but his father had dark hair. Both of them looked short, since Feliks, who looked about thirteen in the picture, was almost their height already. All three were smiling in the picture. Obviously this was taken before Anelie died.

"Did you ever go back and visit them?" Feliciano blurted out, interrupting Feliks's droning list of "likes" and unpronounceable Polish names. "Um, your parents."

His face melded into a grimace. "Not sure why I should, since they, like, dropped me off in America without mentioning to me or Tavian that I was crazy. Worst. Parents. Ever. Like, seriously. Who'd even, like, _do _that to a kid? Seriously. The Annual Crappy Parenting Award def goes to them."

"Oh. I-I'm sorry…."

Feliks waved it off, though, brightening in an instead. "It's okay! America is almost as awesome as Poland, so it's all good. Besides, if I went back to Poland, they'd have probably made me study science and stuff. Not that I don't like it or whatever, but I've found my calling as a hairdresser. I mean, like, look at you! If I had gone back to them, you wouldn't be going to Europe!"

He had to laugh at that, agreeing with him. The car ride was quieter after that, so Feliciano stared out his window at the sky. It was still bright blue for now, but all too soon it would fade, and he would be leaving Heta behind.

((((()))))

Lovino's eye twitched. His every movement was mechanical and stiff as he walked across the stupid stage towards the principal, vice principal, and Katyusha, who had been sobbing before the ceremony had even begun. When it was Ivan's turn to get his diploma, it had taken a solid fifteen minutes to get him off of the stage because Katyusha wouldn't stop hugging him and grossly sobbing. But, finally, it was Lovino's turn. He now regretted referring to himself as Lovino Vargas-Carriedo instead of Carriedo-Vargas, because it had taken _forever _to get to the V names. Katyusha's episodes weren't helping the situation much since she had to stop everything and hug Matthew (one of the first with B), Ivan (Lovino still wanted to shoot himself over _that _incident), and Alfred (in the middle with K, but still closer to the beginning than Lovino).

His body went even more rigid when Katyusha sniffled and spread her arms, offering him a hug too. Before he could decline or dive off of the stage away from her, she tackled into him, knocking his breath out. Her hug squeezed out any remaining traces of oxygen from his lungs. "I-I-I'm going to m-m-miss you!" she cried into his ear. Lovino tried his hardest to escape, but Katyusha wouldn't have it. She continued: "Y-y-you're gonna be a great a-a-adult, you know? B-b-best chef ITALY HAS EVER SEEEEEEEEEN!"

The principal looked pained as she cleared her throat for the fourth time. Katyusha sniffled loudly again and finally allowed Lovino to breathe. However, she gave him one last sloppy kiss to the forehead, as she had with the others.

He stumbled down the stairs, trying to reach his seat before he passed out from lack of oxygen. Thankfully, he didn't pass out on the field and rejoined the other last place losers. Except for Lili, the only good thing about being last. Katyusha attacked her too, but was nicer, merely patting her on the back and sobbing and finally giving her a motherly kiss too. Lovino couldn't help but scowl in jealously as she primly walked back over to her seat, three spaces to his right. She smiled in apology and he felt the frown unraveling into a sweet grin of his own.

The principal said a few more words, Lovino's eye twitched yet again when he heard Aria's sobbing join in with Katyusha's, and finally it was time to throw their hats. Alfred's _WHOO! _overpowered all of their cheers and the applause. For a reason Lovino couldn't fathom, hearing that made his lips twitch, as if it was attempting to form a smile. That couldn't be right. Only Lili and Alice, before she left, could pull a reaction like that out of him.

Speaking of Lili.

Since there was certainly no way Vash could locate her among the swarming mass of black-gowned students, Lovino fought his way over to her for a kiss. She threw her arms around his neck, and Lovino swore he forgave Katyusha and everyone else tenfold for ruining his day. "Ready for summer together?" he asked, trying to sound romantic and cool, but really sounding like a kid eager for vacation.

She giggled and nodded. "We'll have tons of fun in Ams-"

"LOVI LOVI LOVI!"

Lovino turned to glare at Feliciano, waving his arms and racing towards him. For the sake of the plan, he had sat with Yao and the rest of the Wang family to remain out of Aria and Antonio's sight. Feliciano rammed into him and threw his arms wide to include Lili in his suffocating hug too. "I can't believe it's time to start! Come on, you guys, we don't have much time to eat because I've got to leave soon!"

Lili blinked in shock at his dyed hair suddenly darker tan. "F-Feli?"

She didn't have time to ask for or receive an answer, however, because Feliciano was quick to escape to the gymnasium. Few people were already inside and none of them were Aria or Antonio. Feliciano practically zoomed through the food set out, making three plates at once for them. In less than what felt like ten seconds, he was sitting at a back table eagerly waiting for Lovino and Lili to join him. After sharing an apprehensive look, they slowly walked towards him. "You have plenty of time," Lovino hissed, yanking his plate towards him. Politely, he handed Lili's to her.

"Um, time for what?" Lili asked, still confused as to why Feliciano had decided to turn himself into a Lovino clone.

"I'm going to-"

"Lili, are you in here?"

At Vash's booming, panicked voice, Lili's eyes went wide. "Darn, I can't let him find me! Feli, where is Ludwig parked?"

"Just outside," he said, nodding to the door behind him. Lili was glad he had coincidentally chosen to sit here. She gave Lovino a quick kiss and promised to see him shortly. Running as fast as Feliciano had, she was out of sight in no time.

Lovino let out a moan, dropping his face in his hands. "It is impossible to spend more than three minutes alone with my girlfriend, isn't it?"

Feliciano patted his head apologetically. He jerked his head back when he saw Antonio, scanning the crowd for Lovino. "Sorrygottagobye!" he spewed before following Lili's suite and escaping to avoid fatherly detection.

Lovino took back what he said about forgiving those who had made his life miserable. Sighing, he stood up in his seat and waved Antonio and Aria over. If he couldn't spend quality time with his girlfriend or little brother during this special occasion, he could at least spend it with his goofball, oblivious parents.

((((()))))

In adherence to the plan, eating time and goodbyes were kept short so that everyone could meet up at Ludwig's van by nine-thirty. The sizeable crowd milled around Ludwig's van, waiting for Matthew to arrive. All suitcases were already neatly packed and stuffed away in the back, so there was no need to waste time on loading up the Luddy-Mobile. Lovino hadn't come to see them off, much to Feliciano's disappointment, but he figured he was still eating with Antonio and Aria. Or he was already in hiding, having pretended to go outside and join their group.

Matthew finally exited the gym with a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples. "Monica's missing again, but Papa said they'd find her. Therese said she was going to drive me to the airport herself if I didn't catch you guys before you left."

"They'll find eventually," Alfred assured him. "She's probably playing in the locker rooms or something. Anyway, now that Mattie's here," he said, addressing everyone else, "we can get this show on the road!"

As everyone filed into the van, it was quickly evident they had another guest. Matthew eloquently stared in horror at Lili, biting her lip in the back seat. She sat with her suitcase on her lap, nervously smiling and curtly waving at her friends. "I swear my father has no idea I'm here," she promised. This, however, only amplified their terror. Lili spotted Lovino and waved to him, but he didn't wave back, seeing as he was just as horrified as everyone else. She deflated when he finally snapped out of it and sat in the front seat beside Ludwig instead of in the back with her.

Wait a minute. _IN THE FRONT SEAT BESIDE LUDWIG?_

"F-Feliciano?" she burst. "What are you doing here? I thought you were Lovino!"

He helplessly turned around and shrugged. "I thought he told you we switched! I'm going along to help them find Brandon. Lovi was going to stay here with you!"

"What? But he can't stay here! He has to come! How else can I-"

"CRAP! I SEE VASH! FLOOR IT, LUDWIG!" Alfred shouted, cutting into their panic. Ludwig immediately obeyed, no doubt remembering his last close encounter with the chief of police. He swerved out of the parking lot with a wince and an apology.

Lili slid down in her seat as they reached the main road. This definitely was not good. This definitely was not good _at all_. How was she supposed to make Lovino and Ludwig bond _without Lovino present?_ Her careful planning was all ruined now!

Matthew, who had been pushed to the very back seat with her, tried to cheer her up with a smile, but it didn't work because she didn't notice he had sat beside her. With a dejected sigh of his own, he too slid down in his seat.

((((()))))

They had been driving almost two hours now towards the closest town that offered flights to the Netherlands. Matthew had fallen asleep after the first hour, and no one had moved to wake him up. Actually, the only ones still talking were Alfred, Feliciano, and Feliks. They each seemed to be telling one another different stories at the same time, completely oblivious to the fact that none of them were listening to each other. Ludwig had long since tuned them out, as had Kiku and Toris, both fighting down a sense of carsickness as they read the equally large books they had brought along.

Lili had been able to cheer herself up a little, seeing as how she could still help everyone find Brandon. Hopefully, she wouldn't get too sick before they got back to America so she could force Lovino and Ludwig to make up there. All hope wasn't lost!

At least, that's what she thought before she felt someone tap on her shoulder. Lili blinked, turning to look at Matthew. However, he was still fast asleep. She snapped her head around. Lili couldn't help but scream, making Ludwig jerk the van. Heads turned around to investigate what had made her freak out, and they simultaneously screamed as well. Matthew shot up, wide awake with a yell of his own. When he also noticed their second stowaway, he nearly passed out from the shock.

"Mattie!" Monica giggled.

**Translations**

**Italian-**

_**Prometto- I promise**_

_**Ciao, Mamma! Ti Amo!- Bye, Mama! I love you!**_

**Polish-**

_**Mama i Tata- Mom and Dad**_


	19. Chapter 19

…**And no one noticed that I accidentally labeled the last chapter as chapter 17.**

**Robine: Thanks again for reviewing! Haha, they've really got a problem now, don't they? But don't worry, they're still going to Europe. As for Aria and Antonio…. Yeah. They are **_**not **_**going to be very happy about all of this. Neither is Vash. XD**

**LAST TIME ON MEMOIRE:**

_**Monica- Mattie!**_

_**Everybody else- *general screaming and the shouting of profanity the three-year-old probably shouldn't have heard***_

**Chapter 19-**

Vash knew something was wrong when Lili was missing and Lovino was in plain sight.

As disturbingly frightening as the situation was, seeing that Lovino was not at fault for his daughter's disappearance chilled his heart, threatening to stop it dead in its tracks. _She's been kidnapped. She collapsed somewhere._

Once Vash stalked closer to Lovino, ready to throttle him until he got some answers, he noticed several key facts that egged on his investigation: Lovino was alone with his parents, none of their "group" was around, and Vash hadn't heard a peep out of Feliciano since he ran off to find Lovino and Lili.

He was beginning to lean towards the "kidnapping" theory.

But why on earth would _Feliciano _steal his beloved Lili away? Was this another stupid scheme to get her and Lovino alone? No… that plan was far too advanced for the scatterbrained Italians. There had to be some other mastermind. Alfred? When Vash located Natalya, practically conjoined to Ivan, he threw that out the window. Alfred only operated with Matthew or Natalya's help, and Vash had to admit that Matthew wasn't _too bad._ He wouldn't get involved in a kidnapping.

He clenched his hands before the shaking became noticeable. Vash tried to calm himself down. She was probably in the bathroom or something, or talking to one of her little, harmless female friends. Vash _did not _panic when he did not find her sitting with Michelle or any of her other friends. Calmly, he made his way towards Lovino. Even if he wasn't involved, surely he must know _something_.

"…and Arthur had forgotten his cap at home, because Francis, Gilbert, and I snuck in his house and hid it in Achaius's closet. He was in on it, too."

"Uh-huh."

"But his mom found it after interrogating Aodhaigh, so she marched onto the field and personally handed it to him. Arthur could have _died _in embarrassment. Of course, he really got us good later. He and Samantha pretty much ruined our lives in one hour."

"Uh-huh. That's really great, _Papá_. Can I-"

Cutting off his plea for fresh air, Vash slammed his hands on the table, making the family flinch. Lovino let out a squeak, matched only by Aria's shriek. Antonio, at least, didn't sound effeminate in his surprise. "Where is my daughter?" he demanded, watching with slight satisfaction as Lovino's face went white. Apparently he _did_ know something!

He stuttered out something in terrified Italian before clearing his throat and settling a glare on his face. "I haven't seen Lili in half an hour. She ran off to hide from you."

"I knew it! I knew you kidnapped- Wait a minute," Vash caught himself. A new, even worse feeling settled over him. It was akin to being punched in the gut. Now he stuttered incredulously, "Sh-she ran off to _hide_ from me?"

Lovino nervously shrugged. Glaring down an angry Vash was one thing, but dealing with a devastated and heartbroken Vash? Lovino almost wanted to take his chances with his gun collection. But all of this got him to thinking. Why exactly had Lili run off like this? If she wasn't with him, Lili was predictably found with Vash. She never strayed too far off. He began to panic as well. What if something really had happened to her- something bad that she didn't want Vash or Lovino to know about? She wasn't feeling sick again, was she?

Antonio suddenly frowned, further catching Lovino off-guard. "Hey, that reminds me. I haven't seen Feliciano around here. You guys haven't left yet, so I guess he's still hanging around Ludwig? …But Helda left a while ago."

Although Antonio and Aria didn't seem to notice it, Vash saw that Lovino turned an even whiter shade. He looked positively sick. Realization smacked Vash in the face. Ludwig _had _left already! Vash had watched him and the others drive off not ten minutes ago. Although he hadn't personally seen anyone, Ludwig's van was too ostentatious to mistake. Rage overtook the worry he felt. He snapped his arms out to grab the front of Lovino's shirt. "_What did you do?_"

"N-nothing! I didn't-"

"LILI WAS IN THAT VAN WHEN THEY LEFT!"

Antonio's mouth gaped open. "Whoa whoa whoa! Wait a minute! You didn't go with them? But you spent all day yesterday packing-"

He quickly shut his mouth. Fury filled his eyes as well.

Lovino gulped.

"_ILMIO BAMBINO STA PER AMSTERDAM?_" Aria howled, jumping to her feet. Lovino let out another girly scream when she grabbed _Vash's _shirt. "WHEN DID YOU SEE THEM LEAVE?" Before he could answer, she whipped her head around to Lovino. "WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU LET YOUR _FRATELLINO_ GO TO _AMSTERDAM?_ HE COULD DIE IN A PLANE CRASH! BE KIDNAPPED! I'LL NEVER SEE _MIO BAMBINO _AGAIN!"

Antonio jumped into action, trying his best to quell her wailing, but he knew as well as Lovino, Vash, and everyone else now staring at them that she wouldn't stop until Feliciano was safely back in her arms. Lovino nervously rubbed the back of his neck, wincing along with Aria's sobbing. He openly cringed when Antonio turned his glare on him. "Lovino, what is going on?"

The boy winced at his father's tone. The only thing worse than a mopey Vash and a motherly Aria was _definitely_ a furious Antonio. There was no getting out of trouble if things had already escalated into this. "I-I promised I couldn't tell," he said lamely. Even Lovino himself didn't find that very convincing. He thought he sounded like he was about to pee himself, which, granted, was a possibility.

"_Su hermanito es en su via a Amsterdam!_" he seethed. Lovino ducked his head away, but there was no hiding now. "Lovino, _what is going on here?_"

Finally, looking pained, Lovino quietly muttered, "Feli needs to do this. It's going to help him and everyone else, too. I swear."

He drew a shaky breath. "They're going to kill me for this, but… a few weeks ago, Feli and Ludwig accidentally found a box of cassettes…." As he recounted everything- omitting only the part where they took Lili to the house- Antonio and Aria slowly spiraled down into something Lovino couldn't stand to see. He hated to admit it, but seeing their pained expressions shredded him to pieces. By the time he had gotten to the part where Alice told him Brandon was alive and in Luxembourg, Aria was crying into Antonio's shoulder. Antonio….

Lovino couldn't look at him right now.

"…And Lili probably left with them to help them bring him back," Vash softly guessed. He wearily flashed Lovino a look of apology, but color refused to return to his face. Vash turned away and pulled out his cell phone. Lovino's eyes widened upon hearing he was requesting a temporary leave from service. Several shocked and furious voices periodically rang out form the blocky old cell phone, but Vash's expression remained firm in impassivity. Once things on the receiving end had settled down, Vash explained he had an emergency concerning Lili and several other kids from the area. He calmed the new chiming voices of worry, assuring them he could handle this on his own.

Like heck he was.

"If you're going after them," Lovino spat, defiantly crossing his arms, "then you're taking me too. There's no way I'm going to let you ruin everything for _mio fratellino _and Lili."

Vash gave the people still on the line a curt farewell before meeting Lovino's glare with a look equally as dark. "You could have prevented this mess by coming clean to us, but you didn't. There's no telling how much danger they could be in now. How can you be sure Brandon wants to be found? Don't think there may have been a reason as to why he distanced himself?"

Aria hiccupped and Antonio winced. Lovino tossed a worried look to them, attempting to keep the conversation on Feliciano and Lili rather than on Brandon. He pulled the scowl back on his face and rounded on Vash. "Oh, come on! So what if Lili decided to do something on her own for once? She's a freaking legal adult! You can't keep babying her like this!"

"What do you know about looking out for someone? You're willingly going to allow your little brother to fly across the Atlantic without any qualms! You heard your mother- there are too many risks-"

Lovino cut him off. "Too many risks or too much senseless worrying? Both Lili and Feliciano are perfectly safe! Do you honestly believe for a second that Ludwig would let anything happen to them? And if something did happen to make it past Ludwig's notice, Alfred, Matthew, and Kiku would instantly take over and look out for them. I hate basically all of them- especially the freaking _wurst-breath_- but I can trust them enough to _not screw this up_."

Actually, now that Lovino thought about it, that ragamuffin group was practically a magnet for horrible things. If they got enough crap out of life by themselves, who knew what kind of trouble could happen if they were all together? But Lovino tried to shove that out of his mind. Ludwig and Alfred _would_ take care of things. No matter what happened, their combined efforts could take on any-

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MONICA SNUCK IN WITH YOU?" Francis howled from far across the gymnasium. Everyone fell silent at his wild cry, turning to face him, Therese, and Michelle. The Frenchman clenched at his mussed hair, panicked tears pooling in his eyes. "Is she alright?" he demanded. "We've been looking everywhere for her! We were about to call the police!"

Lovino palmed himself. "Monica _too?_" he groaned.

Vash grimly hummed. "I've got to hurry and catch them," he grumbled, stalking towards the exit.

Lovino wildly looked between him and his parents, still locked away in their own little reality. With a mighty moan, he quickly kissed his mother on the cheek and handed his cap and folded gown to a stunned Antonio. "You're going?" he blurted.

"Of course I'm going," Lovino snapped. "I'm gonna make sure they get to and from stupid Amsterdam in one piece and bring back Brandon."

Antonio grabbed his arm before he could leave and pulled him into a hug. "Be careful," he softly warned. "And know that I'm so grateful and proud of you. _Te amo, Lovi. Nosotros se ayudarámos aquí._"

He solemnly nodded. "_Sí, Papá. Ti amo, Mamma_."

"_T-ti amo, mio bambino_," she replied in a shuddered breath. With one last look over his shoulder at them, Lovino bolted out of the room, hot on Vash's trail.

((((()))))

Matthew had never experience such terror as he now felt, watching his little sister cheerfully grin and wave at everyone frozen in the van. The rambunctious blonde then clambered over the back seat to settle down between Matthew and Lili. Ludwig quickly pulled over to the side of the road. Even after the van had been put into park, no one could find any words to say to the still gleeful child that had hitched a ride with their suitcases. Monica noticed their inability to speak, so she broke the silence herself. "I wanna play cards, Mattie."

The demand only slightly registered in Matthew's melted brain. He blinked quickly, trying to dispel the fog that had settled. "M-Monica," he haltingly began. "What in the world are you doing here? Why aren't you with Papa?"

She sighed, picking at the end of her pale pink shirt. "Papa and _Maman _and Shell kept talkin' to everybody. I wanna play cards, but they no want to. Mattie, I wanna play cards!"

"You can't play cards!" he burst, wincing when his temper got the best of him and made Monica flinch. He forced himself to calm down, rubbing his temples. "Monica, you should not have come with us! We are going very far away, and you can't come with us! We went over this last night, remember? You were supposed to stay with Papa and _Maman_, like you did when Alfred and I went to Cuba."

Monica pouted. Matthew could feel her horrific adorable three-year-old powers tug and pick at his heart. He had to do something before she had him wrapped around her finger. Matthew helplessly turned to the others for help, but they had failed to revert back to normal. Irritably, Matthew smacked the back of Alfred's head, effectively waking him up. Alfred grabbed at his hair. "I don't know what to do! Call Francis! Or Therese! Just someone who is _not me _that can handle the problem!"

Matthew's face paled considerably. "I can't call Papa! He'll either come to us or we'll have to go back, and we'll miss our flight! Even worse, Lili and Feliciano will be caught!"

Alfred shook his head incredulously. He widely gestured to everyone in the van. "Is that really worse than taking the little girl, who is only _three-years-old_, to the City of Sin? _Sin, _Mattie! If you're tall enough to reach the counter at the bars there, you're free to drink! Prostitutes are everywhere! It's easier to find drugs there than it is to find cat ladies in our neighborhood! _We cannot take Monica to Amsterdam!_"

"Of course we'd never take her Amsterdam! I'd never let her go, even if she was older!" Mattie burst, aghast that he'd even suggest such a thing. No matter what happened, Matthew could definitely ensure that Monica would _not _be going out of the country. It was difficult enough trying to keep up with her in _America._

But time was certainly no friend of theirs as the minutes sped by with frightening speed. If they didn't reach the airport soon, they would miss their flights. They couldn't afford to waste the chance to find Brandon (and for Feliks to see Doda again). Matthew bit his lip, pulling out his plane ticket. Alfred's face dropped. "Matthew, come on. You gotta come with us! We can't get anything done without you around!"

He shook his head, handing the ticket to Lili. "It's my fault. I didn't notice her earlier, and she's sort of my responsibility. You can sell my ticket or give it to someone else. I'll stay here and wait for Papa and Therese to pick us up."

Feliciano began to tear up. It was evident that he was exhausting his willpower to keep from bursting into a sob. "B-but," he sniffled, "you and Kiku planned this whole thing! What about seeing Alice and Lars?"

"Tell them I'll have to catch them next time," he shrugged, sliding the door open and waving for Monica. "We'll just hang out at that restaurant across the street-"

"Not without me!" Alfred interrupted, flinging his ticket to Toris. The brunette gaped in shock. Alfred winked and said, "Same deal with Mattie: deal with it as you see fit, dude. Anyway, sorry, Feli, but I can't just leave him alone with a soppy, messy Francis. That's not what a hero would do, you know? Not to mention how I now have a good way to escape everyone's wrath. They're probably not going to be happy about this when they find out about Feliciano and Lili. I can take some of the heat for you guys until you get back."

Ludwig frowned at them both. "You're sure you want to do this?"

Alfred nodded, crossing his arms with a pearly grin. "Of course! But you guys definitely gotta get Brandon back here. I've got my own reasons to meet him and possibly give him a black eye_._"

_For hurting Arthur_. Everyone knew that had been why Alfred had so quickly agreed to spend their trip looking for him. After watching Arthur's video and learning that Brandon _was _alive…. Ludwig understood how much this request and Alfred's sacrifice meant. He was going to Europe for the very same reason, after all. Gilbert _needed _to see Brandon before the memories completely corroded him. "…Alright," Ludwig finally acquiesced. He put the van back in gear and tersely nodded to Alfred and Matthew, who now had Monica in his arms.

"We'll be back in no time!" Feliciano promised, waving at him as best as he could without completely obscuring Ludwig's vision.

Once they were out of sight, Matthew turned around and began his silent walk to the restaurant. It was small, decrepit place that lit up the night with its various blinking neon signs. Upon looking inside, Matthew immediately regretted his decision to leave the others so soon. Although the place wasn't a bar, it definitely could have fooled Matthew. The interior was dim and shadowy, and waiters and customers alike sat around the round tables playing poker and smoking expensive-looking cigars.

"Calm down, Mattie," Alfred waved. "I'm sure these guys are, like, secretly bronies or something. Or maybe they're like the tough guys in the Spongebob movie! You know, the ones that sing the Goofy Goober song when no one else is watching?"

Matthew, first off, did not want to think of how often Alfred still watched something as stupid and childish as Spongebob. Secondly, didn't the 'tough guys' in the movie beat each other up over a _bubble?_ But Monica's eyes had already gone wide, seeing her beloved cards littered over each table. She squirmed until Matthew let her down. Eagerly, she tugged on Matthew's arm, urging him to hurry inside so she could play too! Before Matthew could control either Alfred or Monica, they both skipped inside without a qualm. Praying they wouldn't be pounded to bloody pulps, Matthew followed.

((((()))))

Vash expertly swerved into the closest available parking space at the airport. Lovino, meanwhile, still hadn't quite gotten control over his breathing yet. Vash had driven the entire two hours down the interstate with his lights flashing, going at a speed even Lovino wouldn't dare attempt. In the back of his mind, Lovino was slightly offended that Vash had the gall to yell at him for speeding when he was perfectly okay with driving so recklessly, but he figured now wasn't exactly the time to confront him about that. "Come on," Vash growled, slamming the car door shut. Lovino shrugged and slammed his door too, raising his eyebrows in question when Vash shot a death glare at him. Mumbling irritated German under his breath, the policeman stalked inside.

Lovino was glad Vash was so driven to get to the airport on time. They had gotten there in half the time a normal driver, such as Ludwig, would have. They would be able to catch Lili and Feliciano now!

…But Lovino still had a few sabotaging plans brewing. If he managed to see them come in before Vash did, he could prove to be a distraction until they boarded the plane. Of course, it would be difficult since Vash had his steely scowl planted on the front glass doors. He had the upper hand in the situation since they likely didn't know he and Lovino had caught on to Lili's devious (and insanely cute, Lovino inwardly gushed) plan.

At the same time, their eyes locked on to back of Feliks's head, waiting in line for a snack. Lovino's heart rate sped up as he hurried after Vash's frantic sprint. He inwardly prayed Lili and Feliciano had already boarded the plane. If not, Vash would find them and-

Feliks screeched when Vash grabbed his shoulder. "WHERE IS LILI?" the man yelled, completely disregarding the hundreds of eyes now staring at him in apprehension.

"Amazing tact you have there," Lovino muttered.

Vash spared him another dark look before turning back to Feliks. To both Vash and Lovino's surprise, he now wore a sly grin. Feliks pulled away from Vash's grip and flipped his hair back. "You're too late," he sang. "We figured you guys were on your way, so after we dropped Matthew and Alfred off, we high-tailed it down here. They're already on the plane. Me and Toris are-"

Vash didn't waste any time in listening to the rest of his condescending snickering, instead marching to the front desk. Lovino chuckled when the flight attendant informed him all tickets to Amsterdam were sold out. The smile slid right off of his face when the attendant beside her elbowed her arm. A block of ice seemed to settle in his chest when she whipped out two tickets. Feliks swore beside him. "I told Toris to, like, tell her not to tell you guys!"

"Lovino!" Vash's shout rang out through the expanse, crowded space. "We'll follow them to the Netherlands!"

With a mighty groan, Lovino's hands twitched as the urge to strangle the Pole beside him grew nearly insatiable. However, he miraculously managed to restrain himself. "I really hate your guts," Lovino seethed before taking off after Vash.

Right as Toris finally came back from dropping off their luggage, Feliks waved largely after them. "Love you too, honey! Like, have fun storming the castle!"

((((()))))

Lili settled into her seat, cradling her carry-on bag to her chest, which currently was not being cooperative in helping her breathe. She tried to calm herself down, assuring herself that everything had been going well enough so far, and things were going to remain perfect. Feliciano and Ludwig sat behind her, and Kiku, who seat was beside her's, was making his way back to their spot with snacks. Feliciano accepted them all with a cheerful _grazie! _and commenced offering to share with everyone else around them.

She chuckled at his effortlessly gleeful attitude and looked out the window at the brightly lit hangers.

Breaking the nice thing they had going, a panicked shout resounded through the interior: "LILI! WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Vati!" she squeaked in horror.

She whipped her around to Ludwig for an idea, but it was Feliciano who hopped up first. He grabbed Ludwig's wrist and pulled him up, then dragged everyone else into the still slightly crowded pathway. "We'll hide in the back and see if anyone will switch seats with us!"

"No one will-" Feliciano skidded to a halt in front of the flight attendant standing by the door to the next several rows of seats, cutting off Ludwig's protest.

He cleared his throat and put on his most determined face. "Ma'am, I know this is quite an odd request, but could you allow us to sit back there during takeoff?"

"I-it's just for a little while," Lili pleaded, casting a terrorized look over her shoulder. Vash and Lovino's shouts were starting to get closer. If they didn't leave soon….

The flight attendant sighed, putting her hands on her hips. She helplessly shrugged. "I'm sorry, kids, but that's against half of the rules in the book. If you could go back to your seats…."

Feliciano suddenly pulled out his rosary beads. "I'm a priest!" he anxiously burst. "These two," he gestured to Lili and Ludwig, "are running away to Amsterdam to elope because her father hates him! They have a very long and tragic love story I would _love _to tell you all about, but if we don't get this blessed couple to the back of this airplane for just the few minutes of takeoff, it will all be for nothing! The fact that we've gotten them this far is a miracle from God in the first place! We cannot waste the opportunity He has laid out for them!"

Three heads snapped towards him. Feliciano fervently ignored their horrified gapes and clasped his hands together. "Please, Ma'am," he implored endearingly. "Out of all the couples I have wed in my short time as a priest, these two are truly special. Why, they're practically Romeo and Juliet, or, even more appropriate, Landon and Jamie! Surely you've read the tragic love story, _A Walk to Remember_?"

Ludwig, in a panic, threw an arm around Lili's shoulders. The blondes went absolutely rigid. "Y-yes," Ludwig stuttered. "Father, uh, Vargas has done so much for us. Lili and I are very, uh, blessed to have him."

The flight attendant blankly nodded. The look on her face all but assured them they were going to get kicked off of the plane very soon. Ludwig inwardly cringed, struggling to keep the perfectly plastic smile glued onto his face. "Uh-huh. Right. If you two are the happy couple and he's the priest, who are _you_? Actually, aren't you a little young to be a priest?"

"I look very young for my age," Feliciano solemnly replied. He put a hand on Kiku's shoulder. Kiku flinched and looked close to breaking down into shameful tears. "This young man is the groom's best man. Mr. Honda also happens to be my faithful assistant."

Ludwig wanted someone to kill him. He would have gladly let Lovino flay him if it meant getting out of this debauchery. It was one thing for Feliciano to pretend to be a priest, but for Ludwig and Lili to pretend-

Ugh. The mere thought gave him a stomach cramp. When Lovino found out about this….

The attendant seemed to be waiting on Kiku's addition to the incredibly stupid story they were making up right on the spot. While Ludwig was hoping someone would put him out of his misery, Kiku was sure he was about to pass out on the spot. Best man _and _the priest's attendant? He barely knew the basics of Christianity, let alone how to act like someone under a priest! "I asked Father Vargas to wed them because Ludwig is my best friend and neighbor?" he breathlessly guessed, starting to sway on his feet. Feliciano inconspicuously steadied him with a good-natured pat on the back.

"All three of these righteous young people go to my church, you see. I know all about their plight. Lili has cancer and Ludwig is on an epic journey to find his long-lost uncle in Amsterdam, which is why they decided to elope there. After wedding them, Mr. Honda and I have resolved to spend a few weeks in the city spreading God's message to the ungodly. Thus, it is very important we are all able to make it to Amsterdam. In this wonderfully orchestrated plan, would you not like to be responsible for aiding its continuation? Think of the lives you could be saving," Feliciano baited.

Lili nodded, nervously and lightly hugging Ludwig back. "It's been so hard, Ma'am. Ludwig has been the only thing keeping me well. Our getting m-m-married has been my only d-dream for so long."

"It has also been my dream to see them happy together," Kiku put in. The only thing keeping him up on his wobbly knees was Feliciano's helping hand.

"Really. Then how about a kiss, if you're so madly in love with one another?"

If Feliciano's glare didn't stop him, Ludwig would have turned around and yelled that they were all back here. He would have gladly accepted any and all cruel and unusual wrath from Lovino. Heck, he would have let Vash throw his sorry lying self in jail for a few years! He would do _anything _to prevent a _kiss-_

Lili miserably said, "_Es tut mir leid_, Ludwig." Then, she pulled him down to her level and kissed him. They were apart before Ludwig could even register what had happened, and Lili really had to fight the urge to burst into sobs of betrayal. Lovino would never forgive her now! Not after kissing his arch enemy!

The flight attendant cocked an eyebrow at the puppy-eyes she was now receiving. These kids acted as if they had just made the ultimate sacrifice in order to convince her! There was no way they were telling the truth about any of this, save their unbridled panic, but she had to admit they were delightfully talented actors- at least the "priest" was, anyway. At the very least, they had made her boring job certainly more interesting. With a roll of her eyes, she opened the door to the next cabin. Lili thanked her profusely and scurried away. Ludwig, still in shock, was pulled in after her by Kiku.

"Bless you, child," Feliciano at last nodded, making a quick Sign of the Cross.

The flight attendant really needed to look into getting a pay raise. She softly shut the door behind them and looked back at the shouty blonde guy making his way towards her. Her eyes went wide when she noticed the similarities between him and the little girl from earlier. He really could be her father. In that case… maybe they were telling the truth after all? The flight attendant stood up a little straighter, suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of pride and duty. "I'm sorry, sir, but the plane is about to take off. I'm going to have to ask you to take your seat."

"I can't," he spluttered, helplessly peered over her shoulder, trying his best to suddenly acquire the ability to look through a solid door. "My daughter- I have to find her and stop her from going to Amsterdam! She's making the worst mistake of her life! She's sick, and the boys she's with will get her lost or kidnapped and-"

"Sir," she said more firmly. "I apologize, but I must ask that you take your seat or I'll be forced to ask you to exit the plane."

She honestly couldn't help but smile when he finally sighed and took a step back. He took a look at the end of his ticket and slouched to his seat. The boy standing behind him during this episode took her hands. "Thank you," he said, giving her a dazzling grin. "You've just saved my brother and girlfriend from that guy. I am indebted to you."

"Oh, it's no problem at all," she giggled. This kid was hot. If he didn't have a girlfriend back there-

Wait a minute. Brother and girlfriend? The little Italian "priest" and the fiancé of the tall German guy?

Before she could say anything, he pecked a quick kiss on her hand and rushed to his seat. The lights at the front of the cabin blinked to life as the pilot announced their take off. The very confused flight attendant absently went through the motions of checking each passenger in the back had their seatbelts on before sitting down and buckling herself.

Whatever was going on, she only hoped she had made the right decision in helping those kids.

**Translation**

**Italian-**

_**IL MIO BAMBINO STA PER AMSTERDAM?- MY BABY IS GOING TO AMSTERDAM?**_

**Spanish-**

_**Su hermanito es en su via a Amsterdam!- Your little brother is on his way to Amsterdam!**_

_**Te amo, Lovi. Nosotros se ayudarámos aquí.- I love you, Lovi. We'll help out here.**_

**German-**

_**Es tut mir leid- I am so sorry**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Aaaaaaaand here comes the angst you've all been waiting for! School's finally out, so I now have time to write! YES! XD**

**I hope everyone out in the Midwest is also doing okay.**

**Chapter 20-**

Emil knew that after the party Abel had thrown, sleep was going to be impossible for the next 24 hours. The party, which mostly consisted of Abel acting ten times worse than usual, was mostly for his benefit. Nikolaus, Emil, Tino, and Berwald spent the long, endless hours making sure he didn't destroy anything or disturb any neighbors. Once Abel finally passed out around four, his brothers were too wired on caffeine to even think of joining him in slumber. Thus, they held their own party, which was much more harmless and fun than Abel's had been.

It was now noon, and Emil was the only one left awake. Abel still snored loudly on the couch, and Nikolaus was passed out in the armchair. Tino was in the floor, using poor, unfortunate Hanatamago as a pillow. Berwald had been the only one to actually make it to a bed before the coffee and red bull wore off, draining every ounce of their consciousness. Emil was awake only so he could savor the peaceful quiet that only Abel's snoring disturbed. His fourth mug of coffee sat on the kitchen counter before him, which he slowly stirred with the back end of a fork. They had run out of spoons almost a week ago, but Abel kept forgetting to buy more. Actual silverware hadn't graced their kitchen in years after the great Nordic Pudding War of '07. It had taken hours to scrub out all the pudding from Abel and Nikolaus's hair and Hanatamago's fur.

He fondly reminisced the "happy" memory, resting his chin on his palm. Emil honestly couldn't figure out how he and his brothers had survived each other so long. He supposed it was their parents' deaths that made them get their act together and stick close. Of course, that didn't stop them from periodically falling into fits where they acted like sugar-rushed ten-year-olds, but whatever. The food fights and shouting matches were pretty fun, Emil figured.

He also figured that thinking that made him mental.

As did stealing the motorcycle, and running away from the Braginski's, and thinking that Yong Soo's girlfriend was secretly a psychopathic murderer because of her dad….

The smile slipped from his face. He straightened up and took a gulp of coffee. It wasn't alcoholic, but if he imagined hard enough and pretended to be Abel, he figured it would have the same effect.

It didn't.

Emil pursed his lips at his sleeping trio of brothers and the dog. Waking them and finally telling them the truth would not be a very smart idea. Even Tino had a bit of a grouchy side when woken up. Not to mention how bringing up _that night _would definitely put a damper on the rest of their day.

But he had to do something to finally get this off of his chest and out of his head. He had to know who Bong Chung really was before it drove him (even more) insane. Sighing, Emil snuck over to Abel's head and grabbed a pen and the notepad lying scattered on the table beside him. He wrote a quick note, left it on his chest, and quietly slipped out the door, grabbing the car keys.

He was eighteen years old. A legal adult. Emil was perfectly allowed to drive the car to Red Flower, which was definitely already open.

Despite his mental reassurance, he still couldn't quite shake the feeling he had. It wasn't exactly guilt, per se, but it did make him flinch when the car engine came to live at the turn of the key. Emil took a deep breath and put the car in gear, taking a moment to glare at the heap of metal formerly known as Nikolaus's motorcycle. Stupid motorcycle, the source of all of his non-brotherly problems.

His phone (which Emil was surprised to find still in his pocket) rang almost immediately after he parked. Since it wasn't Nikolaus or Abel calling, he gladly answered, "I'm just swinging by Red Flower to get some takeout and I'll be back home in a minute. I left a note on Abel."

Tino yawned before replying. "Okay. Did you bring any money?"

Of course he di-

Crap. He left his wallet. Emil smacked himself. He was driving illegally without his stupid license. After politely lying to Tino (who hopefully would _not _happen to chance upon his wallet while Emil was gone), he promised once again to be back soon and hung up before any further questions could be asked.

Emil just hoped that Tino wouldn't wake up Nikolaus.

Red Flower was practically dead, but the kitchen was as lively as always as Yao and the others started on the most popular foods. Emil dug around in his pockets for any spare change, but he was predictably broke.

"I can get you some fortune cookies."

Emil started at Tao's voice, ringing blandly from the counter. He smirked and fished out a handful. "You look like you're unacquainted with sleep. Everyone's in the back."

"Thanks," he grinned.

As soon as the backroom door was opened, confetti blasted out. Emil sighed at the sight, getting too many unwanted flashbacks from seven hours ago. Yong Soo, dressed in a too-fancy-for-him navy hanbok, waved largely at him, flicking more stray confetti at him. Emil blew it off of his face with a grimace. "I just came from one of Abel's raves. Is the confetti really necessary."

"_Absolutely_," Yong Soo gushed, prancing over to his stash of poppers and glitter. Emil smiled in hello to Xiao Mei, coated in a fine layer of glitter, and to Kieu and Lam, ignoring everyone and everything except their stand-still arm wrestling contest. Both of their arms shook with exertion, but neither moved. Emil was impressed. Either Kieu was stronger than she looked or Lam was the wimp he looked to be. Yong Soo stole back his attention with the buzz of a kazoo. "Oh man, but you should have been here last night! Tao set off all of his hidden firecrackers and it was _glorious._ The whole mall was lit up, like it was Christmas all over again!"

"I'd been working on that for nearly two months. We recorded it for Kiku and emailed it to him. He should have already watched it, but I think he's too ashamed to admit that he thinks it's awesome," Tao said. "Anyway, I guess you didn't just stop by to say hello?"

Emil tried his hardest not to wince, now that all eyes on him were filled with curiosity. He shook his head, nervousness stealing his resolve to ask about Bong Chung. "Honestly, I just wanted to get away from my brothers. You guys are the only ones I know who'd be up so early after graduation partying."

Tao didn't buy that for a second, but didn't press him further. He merely shrugged and kicked Yong Soo. "Bring out last night's kimchi."

"On it!" he cried, saluting him. Xiao Mei stuck out her tongue after his fleeing form and started on cleaning up the mess littering the ground. Their cousins were still locked in their arm wrestling contest. Kieu seemed to be just a tad stronger than her brother, for Lam's arm was starting to move ever so slightly closer to the table.

Emil took a seat, awkwardly trying to avoid Tao's staring. "So… what's up with Yong Soo's outfit?"

"Bong Chung gave it to him last night," Tao said, inwardly deflating at Emil's change in topic. "Apparently it belonged to her dad and she had just found it in her mom's closet."

Tao finally chose to comment on Emil's flinch. "What's up with you and Bong Chung? Every you see her or someone talks about her, you go rigid."

Xiao Mei sent him a sideways glance before turning back to her sweeping. Kieu finally slammed Lam's arm against the table, triumphantly grinning and accepting her brother's ten dollars. Now able to focus on something else for a while, she blinked at Emil's sudden appearance. Lam assured her he'd been here for a while already.

Emil dropped his gaze to the floor. "She… she reminds me of someone. Someone I _really_ don't like. I don't mean to, but when I look at her, I see that guy's face."

"Don't go punching her."

"What?" Emil burst.

Tao chuckled. "When I think of someone I don't like, I end up punching something. Luckily, there's not many people I can't stand. Yong Soo has given me a lot of patience. But every so often, there comes along some unfortunate individual whose primary reason for existence is to annoy me."

For some inexplicable reason, Emil thought back to Berwald. Nothing except for Abel's disasters could get on his nerves. The man literally had nerves of steel. It was rare to see him angry about something. Rare, but not impossible, Emil thought, thinking back to that first spat with the police. When Abel had finally lost the energy to fight back, Berwald had taken care of things. Emil knew he really had Berwald to thank for "convincing" the police his brothers would do a fine job of raising him. No one had thankfully been assaulted, but Emil vividly remembered seeing the murder in his older brother's eyes. Surely the policemen had been able to see it too, and that was why they finally backed off.

"The guy did something to your family, didn't he."

Emil didn't care if Xiao Mei, Kieu, and Lam were staring at him at this point, or if Yong Soo had stopped dead in his tracks upon finding the room suddenly devoid of any previous frivolity. Emil dropped his face in his hands. Tao was his best friend, but he irked him in ways Emil previously thought impossible. That awful talent of his to dig into a person always seemed to tug at Emil. He figured it was the same with everyone else that came into contact with Tao.

He fought his hardest to keep everything inside and in check as he choked out, "She reminds me of the man that killed my parents. She has his face. When I see Bong Chung, I see _him_, and I can't help but freeze up."

Xiao Mei lowly hummed, quietly setting the broom aside in favor of sitting next to Emil. She rubbed his shoulder and murmured, "You can let it all out."

Emil figured that was the last straw. He did let it all out, and that awful feeling mixed with some relief slammed into him. It felt nice to finally tell his story to someone that wasn't his brothers, but it also summoned far too many unwanted flashbacks. "He shot my parents in front of us- he didn't even care that he just orphaned five kids! He took off with my mom's purse, and ran away from Abel. He never caught him- the guy went into the subway and Able lost sight of him in the crowd. I don't know what happened to him or what he needed my parent's money for, but I know it wasn't worth killing them for."

What if Bong Chung was the reason he needed the money? Emil had been seven at the time, so she would have been two or three years old. A lot could happen to a little girl that old on the streets. But the thought only further enraged him. Why hadn't the man spoken up and admitted to needing help? Emil's father gladly would have helped him take care of her! He was always so selfless, so kind and so brave.

"What makes you so certain this was Bong Chung's _appa?_" Yong Soo quietly asked. He abandoned the kimchi on a side table in favor of crossing his arms. "You lost your parents when you were little, right? Are you sure you remember his face that well?"

"Soo!" Xiao Mei snapped.

Tao sent her a look. "He makes a good point. You can't just go up to Bong Chung raving about how her dad was a murderer. From what she's told us, he was a good guy."

"_I perfectly remember that scumbag's face,_" Emil growled. "You'd remember the face of your parents' murderer too, I assure you. If Nikolaus or the others saw Bong Chung, they'd think the same thing. And would you seriously expect her to like the fact that her dad was a killer?"

"He's not!" Yong Soo hotly burst. "_Seonsaeng _Choi was not a murderer. He was a hero that worked himself to death trying to get Bong Chung and her _eomeomi _to America."

"How do you know she's not lying to you?" Emil burst. "People _lie_, Yong Soo! Even people you think you know and trust will lie to you over and over again!"

Kieu stood up, ready to step in when Yong Soo leaned in closer to Emil, scowl on his face. Lam and Tao waved her back in her seat. If anything happened, _they _would take care of things. No one needed Kieu to break any bones while breaking up a fight. Yong Soo jabbed a finger at him. "Bong Chung is _not _that kind of person. I don't care what you think you remember or not. She came to America via honest means, and she and her family are honorable."

"You're such an idiot."

Yong Soo flinched back, eyes going wide. Emil shook his head, aghast at him. "It's almost impossible for someone so poor to earn enough money to get a family of three to America. It's even harder for them to care for a sick wife and a child. It took all four of my brothers working jobs to get food on the table. There's no way one man could legally buy three plane tickets. You have to be an idiot to think otherwise. I bet she's really been from New York all along, but wanted to seem cool and Korean for you, because otherwise, you probably wouldn't have given her a second glance!"

The boy spluttered incredulously. "It doesn't matter if she's Korean or not to me, even though she is! She had the worst accent when she moved here! Oh, but you wouldn't know that, since you don't know _anything _about her!"

"I don't have to know anything about her to know that she is _not _the innocent girl you think she is!"

Instead of lunging for him like everyone in the room expected, Yong Soo irritably straightened. "You know what, I think we should just go ask her. When you hear the story from her, you'll realize you're wrong. Come on!" Yong Soo ground out, grabbing his wrist.

Tao followed them out the door, sighing in exasperation. "You're _both _idiots, acting like this!"

His accusation fell on too stubborn ears. Tao stopped at the front of the restaurant, glaring after their stomping. "You're going to dig yourselves into the worst mess ever, and you're going to regret ever thinking of doing this." Rolling his eyes, he spun around on heel to inform Yao that Yong Soo was heading out. If he couldn't stop his stupid twin from making a fool of himself, the least he could do was save him from Yao's wrath.

((((()))))

Lars was a little more than annoyed when his phone rang, interrupting their quality documentary viewing. Since he was too cheap to subscribe to any decent TV station, the only good channel out of the twenty he got was the history channel. And Lars really hated the history channel. But Alice and Sebastiaan apparently found the crazy Ancient Aliens guy hilarious, so he left them at it while he took the stupid call.

His phone was also old and nearly unusable. Three keys didn't work anymore, and the front screen was cracked, so the caller I.D. always looked fuzzy and weird. But it didn't really matter to him. Lars hardly used his phone anyway, except to answer calls. He preferred hand written sentiments and face-to-face conversations more. Lars scowled at the familiar name and answered with a tight sigh. "I'm busy right now. I told you not to call-"

The voice's panicked tone cut him off. "She's finally gotten it all, Lars. I'm out of time, and they still haven't seen the video yet."

He did not panic. He _didn't._ Widening eyes and a hitch in his breath was _not _panicking! "They're already _here!_" he burst. "My partners at the airport just informed me half an hour ago that they are here. As soon as they get their accommodations sorted out, they'll probably try and find me. Brandon is on his way here too. My brother got a call from him earlier and said he's coming in for a visit."

"I'm sorry, okay? I tried to get it to them, but-"

"You didn't try hard enough," he muttered, casting a look over his shoulder. Alice and Sebastiaan were still cracking jokes. Lars rubbed his temples exasperatedly. "Try and stop your mother. She can't give me that money. It was all incentive to make her stay in Heta for a while- you realize that, right?"

"Of course I do. I've been stalling and slipping cash back to them for months now. But she's finally stolen enough and she says we're leaving any day now. I can't leave, Lars. I haven't told them the truth. I've screwed up everything and I don't know what to do now."

Lars blocked out the sound of his own voice, nagging about the same thing years ago. He tightly closed his eyes, pushing it out of his mind. In hindsight, Lars figured that picking someone exactly like him to handle this job wasn't the best idea after all. If he couldn't patch things up before, why would he expect her to do the same? Lars miserably leaned against the wall, swiveling his head back to Alice and Sebastiaan. He had given up so much to keep this away from them, but now he wasn't sure if he could keep them in the dark much longer. Lovino and the others must have figured everything out by now. When they finally cajoled someone into disclosing his location or contacted Alice, Lars would have to explain everything.

For the first time in twenty-five years, he was afraid.

"I'm sorry, Bong Chung," he whispered.

She was quiet on the other line. Lars muttered a farewell and hung up.

He wanted to slide down to the floor and then disappear, but Lars refused to be a coward any longer. He needed to stop depending on others to mop up his mistakes. Everything was finally coming together, and it was about time he stood up and faced it with pride. Lars was going to admit to his mistakes. He was going to try and heal the scars he'd caused.

"Turn off the crazy guy," he intoned, walking back to the living room. "We're eating out for dinner. There's a nice place I want to show you guys."

Alice's eyebrows rose incredulously. "You're taking us to a _nice _place?"

"The sound of my spent money's screaming will distract me from today's daily dose of crap," he grumbled. Alice openly gaped. Sebastiaan still wore that ever-present look of confusion, but seemed worried about the situation nonetheless.

"We might as well waste my gas and drive there, too."

Alice wore a look of absolute _terror_ as she followed him out the door.

((((()))))

Yong Soo stonily kept his arms crossed and eyes plastered to the window the entire drive. He only opened his mouth to give Emil, just as stiff with anger as him, directions. Just thinking about the kid made him flare. Just who did Emil think he was to say such things about his beloved Bong Chung? Besides that, how could he even suggest that Yong Soo only liked her because she was Korean? That was only a bonus! Yong Soo loved her from the moment he saw her, and it wasn't at all because she was Korean! It was because she….

His tight lips drooped.

It _was _because she was Korean.

But that wasn't just what he loved about her! It was how nice she was, how funny her jokes were, and, most importantly, how she could out dance even the best at DDR! Even though Yong Soo initially had a thing for her because she was Korean, he really did learn to love her after getting to know her. And he was positive she loved him just as much. Because of that, there was no way she could ever lie to him about anything. They shared everything- even embarrassing childhood stories! Bong Chung was the only non-family member that knew he was terrified of bubble baths as a kid. Now he thought they were awesome. But that's getting off topic.

Emil had to be wrong. He was just a confused little kid when his parents died, and that's what had him so confused now. There was no way he could remember a face that well. Yong Soo wasn't sure why he had chosen to pick on Bong Chung, but he wasn't about to let him get away with it on his watch. Bong Chung stood up for Yong Soo all the time, and it was finally time to repay her.

Once they parked in front of Bong Chung's house, Yong Soo stiffly told Emil to stay put while he asked Bong Chung to come out. Emil merely huffed in response.

Yong Soo was a bit worried when no one answered the door after he knocked. Both Bong Chung's bike and her mother's car was here, so they couldn't be out. Panic overcame him. What if something was wrong with Mrs. Choi? What if she was especially sick today and Bong Chung couldn't leave her side? He held a finger to Emil, telling him to continue waiting. He retrieved their house key predictably hidden under the place mat and slipped inside. Yong Soo nervously stood in the tiny foyer, craning his neck around to try and see either of them in the kitchen or the living room. When he found both rooms empty, he quietly went upstairs.

He sighed in relief at hearing voices. Yong Soo was about to call out and alert his presence, but he suddenly caught on to the topic of their conversation.

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

"…need to pay him back _now!_ We've gotten almost more than enough out of that stupid restaurant to repay him. _You're _the one making matters worse by delaying this."

"We can't just give away their hard earned money. They're about to go out of business because of us. It isn't right, _Eomma_."

Yong Soo couldn't hear the rest of Mrs. Choi's retort, because the buzzing in his ears grew too loud. He stumbled back, hitting the wall. The now shattered photo frame at his feet barely registered in his mind. Mrs. Choi's shout, however, managed to pull him out of his shock just enough. "What are you doing here?"

Bong Chung poked her head out, eyes widening in alarm. It didn't take her very long to gape in horror. "S-Soo!"

He numbly shook his head, gaze dropping to her feet. He swallowed hard. "It was you?" he whispered. "You were the one taking the money?"

"Soo, no! I-I didn't! I-"

"You _lied _to me!" he yelled, finally snapping his head up to look her in the eye. Yong Soo's own eyes filled with tears. "This whole time, you've been lying to me! To all of us! I cannot _believe _you'd steal from us!"

_I don't know what happened to him or what he needed my parent's money for, but I know it wasn't worth killing them for._

_How do you know she's not lying to you? People _lie_, Yong Soo! Even people you think you know and trust will lie to you over and over again!_

_You're such an idiot._

He was. He was he was he was he was-

"_Eomma_, no!"

He was the biggest idiot to ever walk the earth. Amid his realization, he barely noticed that Mrs. Choi was now running at him. He had just figured out that her intentions were to get rid of him when he realized he wasn't standing on solid ground anymore. He landed hard on the first steps, knocking the breath out of him and sending a fire running up his spine. The rest of the trip to the first floor was just as painful, skinning up his back and knocking his head. He slid onto the spinning floor, barely able to hold back a shout of pain. It was worse than anything he'd ever felt before.

As his vision swirled and then darkened, Yong Soo could only think of how stupid he'd been to not figure this all out earlier. If he hadn't been such an idiot, he could have stopped Bong Chung before their business teetered on the edge of bankruptcy. Yao never would have panicked, and Emil wouldn't have ever met Bong Chung and started this mess.

Maybe Yong Soo wouldn't have felt so terrible, either.

"Yong Soo!" Bong Chung screamed, tearing down the stairs. She dropped to his side and reached out to shake him back into consciousness, but forced herself to stop before she hurt him even more. She did turn him on his back, choking when he winced. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sobbed, smoothing back his hair and shaking. "I was going to tell you, I was trying to make her stop- _I'm so sorry_."

Her face, so perfect and beautiful, was the last thing he saw before the world around him went dark.

((((()))))

Emil didn't realize he had fallen asleep until his phone woke him up. He creaked up, rubbing his neck. The time on his phone read one o'clock. He fully woke up when he realized he had been out for half an hour, and Yong Soo still wasn't back. "Darn it!"

He stumbled out of the car, completely ignoring his phone's insistent ringing. Whichever brother of his it was could _wait. _Mrs. Choi's car was no longer in the driveway, and Bong Chung's bike lay dejectedly on the ground. Emil banged on the door. When he didn't get an answer, he kicked open the door. The living room was dark and silent, but not quite empty. Emil rushed over Yong Soo on the floor, the side of his face covered with a dark bruise. Emil cursed aloud and sat him up against the wall. His hanbok was dusty and there was a wet spot on his shoulder. Tears? The mere thought enraged him. Emil had been right. Worst of all, Bong Chung was apparently just as despicable as her father had been. He gritted his teeth and lifted Yong Soo up. Emil nearly buckled under his weight, but carried him back out to the car, constantly telling himself he needed to really work out this summer.

Five no doubt angry and worried voicemails popped up on his phone, but he ignored them all and called Tao. The long rings were nearly unbearable, and Emil kicked the tire when he got the voice mail. "This is not the flipping time to ignore me, Tao!" he yelled. "Your brother is currently unconscious in my car! Something happened to him!"

Five seconds later, Tao called him. Emil explained all that he knew, anxiously pacing around the side of the car. Yong Soo hadn't moved, and it was seriously starting to freak him out. He wasn't dead- his chest still rose and fell- but Emil was still terrified that something else horrible had happened to him. He told Tao to hurry and get here. Nikolaus was next on his list of people to call. Gripping at his hair, Emil quickly apologized for leaving and then hastily explained the situation.

Nikolaus didn't reply, but Emil heard him mumbling something away from the phone. Probably rallying up the others so they all could come. Emil couldn't help but crack a weary grin when Nikolaus promised, "We'll be there as soon as we get Abel out of his coma."

"Thank you," he said. Emil hung up. He realized his hands were shaking. He covered his face with his hands and took deep, steadying breaths. Everything was going to be alright. Tao and Xiao Mei were on their way with Yao, and Nikolaus and the others were also coming. Yong Soo was going to be fine. Emil uncovered his face.

He locked sight on a video tape. It lay on the ground, half covered by the grass. If Emil hadn't been standing and looking where he was, he probably wouldn't have noticed it at all. Swallowing hard, he retrieved it. It was void of any white tape explaining what it was, but something had been written in sharpie on the top of it. He squinted, trying to make out the smudged and faded letters. Finally, he read, "_The Truth?_"

Emil frowned and tossed it in the back of the car. He didn't know if he wanted to see "the truth" or not after all of this. Besides, making sure Yong Soo was alright was his top priority. He got hurt because Emil had stupidly fallen asleep in the car, completely missing all of the action. He gritted his teeth and got back in the car. "I'm sorry, Yong Soo," he murmured, drowsiness catching up to him again. He refused to give in this time. Instead, he lightly shook Yong Soo's shoulder. He needed to know just what had happened.

It took a while, but Yong Soo's eyes finally fluttered. He let out a low groan, minutely shuffling away from his touch. "Yong Soo!"

He let out a hiss when Emil shook his shoulder again. "_Jegil_, Emil, that _hurts._"

Emil let out a breath of relief, pulling back. "Are you okay?"

Yong Soo was quick to answer with trembling lips. "No. No I'm not." Emil's face fell when his eyes filled with tears. Yong Soo grabbed at his arms and pulled his legs to his chest. "I am not okay, Emil. You were… you were right. Sh-she did lie. She-" he hiccupped and buried his face into his sleeves, shoulders shaking with sobs. "_Everything was her fault_," he ground out. "R-Red Flower, and everything! She _u-used _me to g-get to the m… money!"

Emil wasn't sure if he should pat him on the back or just let him get everything out. Either way, it wouldn't help any of the pain he felt. Emil hated himself for telling him everything earlier. If he hadn't spoken out, this never would have happened. Sure, Bong Chung would still probably be gone, but Yong Soo wouldn't have that bruise. Wincing, he asked, "Wh-what happened to your face?"

"God, I don't kn-know," he stuttered. "Probab… probably the stairs."

"They pushed you down the _stairs?_"

He merely cried harder.

"Soo, I'm so sorry. I never should've-"

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Shut _up!_ Do not apologize!"

Emil ducked his head away. He cringed each time Yong Soo's breath hitched, but remained silent. Overridden with guilt and shame, he hit his head back on the head rest and cursed again.

**Translations**

_**Seonsaeng Choi- Mister Choi**_

_**Eomeoni- Mother**_

_**Eomma- Mom**_

_**Jegil- Darn it**_


End file.
